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ROUGH  AND  READY; 


OR, 


LIFE  AMONG  THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS. 


BY 


HORATIO  A,LGER,  Jr., 

A.UTHOR  OF  "  RAGGED  DICK,"  "  FAMBI'aND  FORTUNE,"  "  MARK,  THE  MATCH 
BOY,"   "  CAMPAIGN  SERIES,"   "  LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES,"  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PORTER    &    COATES. 


^^^    FAMOUS  ALGEE  BOOKS. 

L2  Illustrated,  Cloth,  Extra,  Black  and  Gold, 

1^0      BAGGED  DICK  SERIES.     Complete^ in  six  vols.    Price  per  toI.,  SI  25. 

Eagged  Dick ;  or,  Street  Life  in  New  York. 

Fame  and  Fortune  ;  or,  The  Progress  of  Eichard  Huuter. 

Llark  the  Matcli  Boy. 

Eough  and  Ready;  or,  Life  among  the  New  York  New.sboys. 

Ben  the  Luggage-Boy;  or,  Among  the  Wharves. 

Eufus  and  Eose;  or.  The  Fortunes  of  Eough  and  Eeady. 

T^VarXERED  TOM  SERIES.    A  Continuation  of  the  Ragged  Dick  Series. 
Price  per  voL,  SI  "25. 

First  Series.      Complete  in  four  vols. 
Tattered  Tom  ;  or,  The  Story  of  a  Street  Arab. 

Paul  the  Peddler;  or, The  Adventures  of  a  Young  Street  Merchant. 
Phil  the  Fiddler;  or,  The  Young  Street  Musician. 
Slow  and  Sure;  or,  From  the  Sidewalk  to  the  Shop. 
Second  Series.     Complete  in  four  vols. 
Julius;  or,  The  Street ^Boy  out  West. 
The  Young  Outlaw  ;  or,  Adrift  in  the  World. 
Sam's  Chance,  and  How  he  Improved  It. 
Tlie  District  Telegraph  Boy. 

CAMPAIGN  SERIES.     Complete  in  three  vols.     Price  per  vol.,  81  25. 

Frank's  Campaign. 
Paul  Prescoti's  Charge. 
Charlie  Codman's  Cruise. 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES.    Price  per  vol.,  SI  50. 

First  Series.     Complete  in  four  vols. 
Luck  and  Pluck ;  or,  John  Oakley's  Inheritance. 
Sink  or  Swim  ;  or,  Harry  Eayraond's  Eesolve. 
Strong  and  Steady  ;  or,  Paddle  your  Own  Canoe. 
Strive  and  Succeed  ;  or,  The  Progress  of  Walter  Conrad. 

Second  Series.     Complete  in  four  vols. 
Try  and  Trust;  or.  The  Story  of  a  Bound  Boy. 
Bound  to  Rise;  or,  How  Harry  Walton  Eose  in  the  "World. 
Eisen  from  the  Ranks;  or,  Harry  Walton's  Success. 
Herbert  Carter's  Legacy  ;  or.  The  Inventor's  Son. 

BRAVE  AND  BOLD  SERIES.  Complete  in  four  vols.  Price  per  vol.,  81  60. 

Brave  and  Bold  ;  or,  Tlie  Story  of  a  Factory  Boy. 
Jack's  Ward  ;  or,  The  Boy  (hiardian. 
Shifting  for  Himself;  or.'Gilhtrt  Oreyson's  Fortunes. 
Wait  and  Hope;  or,  Ben  Bradford's  Motto. 

PACIFIC  SERIES.    Complete  in  fonr  vols.    Price  per  vol.,  81  25. 

The  Young  Adventurer  ;  or,  Tom's  Trip  across  the  Plains. 
The  Young  Miner;  or.  Tom  Nelson  in  California. 
The  Young  Explorers  ;  or.  Among  the  Sierras. 
{Fourth  volume  in  preparation.) 


Copyright  by  A.  K.  Loring,  1869. 


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O  e  t)  t  c  a  t  i «  « . 


»0       MY       DEAR       FRISS 


^robore    ^tligman, 


THT8    VOI.UilB 


B  AFraonOHArKLT  PEDIOATm 


PREFACE 


"Bough  and  Ready"  is  presented  to  the  public  as  tho 
fourth  volume  of  the  "  Ragged  Dick  Series,"  and,  like  two 
of  its  predecessors,  was  contributed  as  a  serial  to  the 
"  Schoolmate,"  a  popular  juvenile  magazine.  Its  second  title, 
"Life  among  the  New  York  Newsboys,"  describes  its  char- 
acter and  purpose.  While  the  young  hero  may  be  regarded 
as  a  favorable  example  of  his  class,  the  circumstances  of  his 
lot,  aggravated  by  the  persecutions  of  an  intemperate  parent, 
are  unfortunately  too  common,  as  any  one  at  all  familiar 
with  the  history  of  the  neglected  street  children  in  our 
cities  will  readily  acknowledge. 

If  "  Rough  and  Ready  "  has  more  virtues  and  fewer  faults 
than  most  of  his  class,  his  history  will  at  least  teach  the 
valuable  lesson  that  honesty  and  good  principles  are  not  in- 
compatible even  with  tiie  greatest  social  disadvantages,  and 
will,  it  is  hoped,  serve  as  an  incentive  and  stimulus  to  the 
young  people  who  may  read  it. 
Nbw  York,  Deo.  20,  186ft. 


ROUGH  AND  READY; 

OR, 

LIFE  AMONG  THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS 

CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCES   ROUGH   AND   READY. 

On  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  "Times'*  oflSce, 
facing  Printing-House  Square,  stood  a  boy  of  fifteen, 
with  a  pile  of  morning  papers  under  his  arm. 

"  '  Herald/  '  Times/  '  Tribune/  'World' !"  he  vo- 
ciferated, with  a  quick  glance  at  each  passer-by. 

There  were  plenty  of  newsboys  near  by,  but  this 

boy  was  distinguished  by  his  quick,  alert  movements, 

and  his  evident  capacity  for  business.     He  could  tell 

by  a  man's  looks  whether  he  wanted  a  paper,  and 

oftentimes    a    shrewd    observation   enabled   him  to 

judge   which  of  the  great  morning  dailies  would  be 

likely  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  individual  he  addressed. 

"  Here's  the  '  Tribune,'  sir,"  he  said  to  a  tall,  thiu 

9 


10  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

man,  with  a  carpet-bag  and  spectacles,  who  had  the 
appearance  of  a  country  clergyman.  "Here's  the 
'  Tribune,*  —  best  paper  in  the  city." 

"I'm  glad  you  think  so,  my  lad.  You  may  give 
me  one.  It's  a  good  sign  when  a  young  lad  like  you 
shows  that  he  has  already  formed  sound  political 
opinions." 

"  That's  so,"  said  the  newsboy. 

"I  suppose  you've  seen  Horace  Greeley?" 

"In  course,  sir,  I  see  him  msot  every  day.  He's 
a  brick ! " 

"A  what?"  inquired  the  clergyman,  somewhat 
shocked. 

"A  brick!" 

"  My  lad,  you  should  not  use  such  a  term  in 
speaking  of  one  of  the  greatest  thinkers  of  the 
times." 

"  That's  what  I  mean,  sir ;  only  brick's  the  word 
we  newsbo3's  use." 

"  It's  a  low  word,  my  lad  ;  I  hope  you'll  change  it. 
Can  you  direct  me  to  French's  Hotel?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  there  it  is,  just  at  the  comer  of  Frank- 
fort Street." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  11 

"  Thank  you.  I  live  in  the  country,  and  am  not 
Tery  well  acquainted  with  New  York." 

"  I  thought  so  " 

"  Indeed !  What  made  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  the 
clergyman,  with  a  glance  of  inquiry,  unaware  that  his 
country  air  caused  him  to  differ  from  the  denizens  of 
the  city. 

"  By  your  carpet-bag,"  said  the  boy,  not  caring  to 
mention  anj'-  other  reason. 

"  What's  your  name,  my  lad?" 

"  Rough  and  Ready,  sir." 

"  What  name  did  you  sayi* "  asked  the  clergyman, 
thinking  he  had  not  heard  aright. 

"  Rough  and  Ready,  sir." 

"  That's  a  singular  name." 

"  My  right  name  is  Rufus ;  but  that's  what  the 
boys  call  me." 

"  Ah,  yes,  indeed.  Well,  my  lad,  I  hope  you  will 
continue  to  cherish  sound  political  sentiments  until 
the  constitution  gives  you  the  right  to  vote." 

"Yes,  sir,  thank  you.  —  Have  a  paper,  sir?" 

The  clergyman  moved  off,  and  Rough  and  Ready 
addressed  his  next  remark  to  a  sallow-complexioned 


1 2  ROUGH  AND    EEaDY ;    OB, 

man,  with  a  flashing  black  eye,  and  an  immense  flap 
ping  wide-awake  hat. 

"  Paper,  sir  ?    Here's  the  '  World ' ! " 

"  Give  me  a  copy.  What's  that,  —  the  '  Tribune  M 
None  of  your  Black  Republican  papers  for  me 
Greeley's  got  nigger  on  the  brain.  Do  you  sell  manj 
'Tribunes'?" 

"  Only  a  few,  sir.  The  '  World '  *s  the  paper !  1 
only  caiTy  the  '  Tribune '  to  accommodate  a  few  cus 
tomers." 

"I  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  it."  And 
the  admirer  of  the  "  World  "  passed  on. 

"  Got  the  '  Herald'?  "  inquired  the  next  man. 

"  Yes,  sir,  here  it  is.  Smartest  paper  in  the  city ! 
Got  twice  as  much  news  as  all  the  rest  of  the  papers." 

*'  That's  where  you're  right.  Give  me  the  '  Herald' 
for  my  money.  It's  the  most  enterprising  paper  in 
America." 

"  Yes,  sir.  James  Gordon  Bennett's  a  perfect 
Bt€am-engine !  " 

<'Ever  see  him?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  often.     He's  a  brick  I " 

**I  believe  3'on." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  13 

"  Paper,  sir  ?     '  Tribune/  sir  ?  " 

Kough  and  Ready  addressed  this  question   some- 
what doubtfully  to  a  careful!}'-  dressed  and  somewhat 
portly  gentleman,  who  got  out  of  a  Fourth  Avenue 
car,  and  crossed  to  the  sidewalk  where  he  was  stand 
ing. 

"  Don't  want  the  '  Tribune.'  It's  a  little  too  ex- 
treme for  me.     Got  the  *  Times '  ?  " 

"  Yes,*  sir.     Here  it  is.     Best  paper  in  the  city !  ** 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  It's  a  sound,  dignified 
journal,  in  my  opinion." 

"  Yes,  sir.  That's  what  I  think.  Henry  J.  Ray- 
mond's a  brick ! " 

"  Ahem,  my  lad.  You  mean  the  right  thing,  no 
doubt;  but  it  would  be  better  to  say  that  he  is  a 
man  of  statesman-like  views." 

"That's  what  I  mean,  sir.  Brick's  the  word  we 
newsboys  use." 

Just  then  a  boy  somewhat  larger  than  Rough  and 
Ready  came  up.  He  was  stout,  and  would  have  been 
quite  good-looking,  if  he  had  been  neatly  dressed, 
and  his  face  and  hands  had  been  free  from  dirt.  But 
Johnny  Nolan,   with  whom  such  of  my  readers   as 


14  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

have  read  "  Ragged  Dick  "  and  "  Fame  and  Fortune" 
are  already  acquainted,  was  not  very  much  troubled 
by  his  deficiencies  in  either  respect,  though  on  the 
whole  he  preferred  whole  garments,  but  not  enough 
to  work  for  them. 

Johnny  was  walking  listlessly,  quite  like  a  gentle- 
man of  leisure. 

"  How    are   you,    Johnny  ? "    asked    Rough    and 
Ready.     "  Where's  jour  blacking-box  ?  " 

"  Somebody  stole  it,"  said  Johnny,  in  an  aggrieved 
tone. 

"  Why  don*t  you  get  another?  ** 

"  I  aint  got  any  mone}^" 

"  I  never  knew  you  when  you  did  have,"  said  the 
newsboy. 

"  I  aint  lucky,"  said  Johnny. 

"  You  won't  be  till  you're  a  little  smarter  than  you 
are  now.     What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I   dunno,"    said  Johnny.     "  I  wish  Mr.  Tajior 
was  in  this  city." 

"What  for?" 

"  He  used  to  give  me  money  most  every  day,"  said 
Johnn3\ 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  15 

"  I  don't  want  anybody  to  give  me  money,"  said 
Bough  and  Ready,  independently.  "  I  can  earn  my 
own  living." 

"  I  could  get  a  place  to  tend  a  paper-stand,  if  1 
had  good  clo'es,"  said  Johnny. 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  work  and  earn  enough 
money  to  buy  some,  then  ?  "  said  the  newsboy. 

"  I  can't.     I  aint  got  no  money." 

"  I've  sold  sixty  papers  this  morning,  and  made 
sixty  cents,"  said  Rough  and  Ready. 

"  I  aint  made  nothing,"  said  Johnny,  despondently. 

"  Come,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  said  the  news- 
boy. "  Here's  two  '  Tribunes,'  two  *  Worlds'  and 
*  Times '  and  three  '  Heralds.'  Just  go  round  the  cor- 
ner, and  sell  'em,  and  I'll  give  you  all  the  profits." 

"  All  right !  "  said  Johnny,  brightening  up  at  the 
prospect  of  making  something.  "  What's  the 
news  ?  " 

"  Steamboat  exploded  on  the  Mississippi !  Five 
hundred  people  thrown  half  a  mile  high  in  the  air  I 
One  man  miraculously  saved  by  falling  in  a  mud« 
hole !     Can  you  remember  all  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Johnn3\     *'  Give  me  the  papers." 


16  ROUGH  AND   ready;    OR^ 

Johnny  went  round  to  Nassau  Street,  and  began  to 
cry  the  remarkable  news  which  had  just  been  commu- 
nicated to  him. 

''  That  ought  to  sell  the  papers,"  said  Rough  and 
Ready  to  himself.     *'  Anywaj^,  Johnny's  got  it  exclii 
sive.     There  aint  any  other  newsboy  that's  got  it." 

In  about  half  an  hour  Johnny  came  back  emptv 
handed. 

"  Sold  all  your  papers?  "  asked  the  newsboy. 

"  Yes,"  said  Johnny ;  "  but  was  that  true  about  the 
steamboat  ?  " 

"Why?" 

*'  'Cause  people  looked  for  it,  and  couldn't  find  it, 
and  one  man  said  he'd  give  me  a  lickin'  if  I  called 
out  news  that  wasn't  true." 

"  Well,  if  it  isn't  true  now,  it  will  be  some  other 
day.  Explosions  is  a  permanent  institution.  Any- 
how, it  isn't  any  worse  for  us  to  cry  news  that  aint 
true,  than  for  the  papers  to  print  it  when  they  know 
It's  false." 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  morality  of  Rough 
and  Ready's  views  on  this  subject,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted   that    in    manufacturini::    news    to  make  his 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  17 

papers  sell,  he  was  only  imitating  the  example  of 
some  of  our  most  prominent  publishers.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  his  readiness  to  adopt  the  political 
views  and  prejudices  of  his  customers,  for  commer- 
cial profit.  I  may  as  well  remark  here,  that,  though 
Rough  and  Ready  is  a  favorite  of  mine,  for  his  energy, 
enterprise,  and  generous  qualities,  I  do  not  mean  to 
represent  him  as  a  model  boy.  I  shall  probably  have 
to  record  some  things  of  him  which  I  cannot  wholly 
approve.  But  then  it  is  to  be  considered  that  he  is 
a  newsboy,  whose  advantages  have  been  limited,  who 
has  been  a  familiar  witness  to  different  forms  of 
wickedness  ever  since  he  was  old  enough  to  notice 
anything,  and,  notwithstanding,  has  grown  up  to  be  a 
pretty  good  bo}^,  though  not  a  model. 

In  fact,  one  reason  why  I  do  not  introduce  any 
model  boys  into  my  stories  is  that  I  do  not  find 
them  in  real  life.  I  know  a  good  many  of  various 
degrees  of  goodness ;  but  most  of  them  have  more 
failings  than  one,  —  failings  which  are  natural  to 
boys,  springing  oftentimes  more  from  thoughtless- 
ness than  actual  perverseness.  These  faults  they 
must  struggle  with,  and  by  determined  effort  they 

9 


18  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OB, 

will  be  able,  with  God's  help,  to  overcome  them 
They  have  less  excuse  than  the  friendless  newsboy, 
because  more  care  has  been  bestowed  upon  their  edu- 
cation and  moral  training. 

"  Here's  eleven  cents,  Johnny,"  said  the  newsboy, 
after  receiving  from  his  assistant  the  proceeds  of  his 
sales.  '*  Isn't  it  better  to  earn  them  than  have 
somebody  give  them  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,'*  said  Johnn}-,  doubtfully. 

"  Well,  you  ought  to,  then.  I've  sold  fifteen  more. 
That's  seventy-five  I've  sold  this  morning.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  with  your  money  ?  " 

"I  got  trusted  for  breakfast  at  the  Lodge  this 
mornin',"  said  Johnny  ;  "  but  I  must  earn  some  more 
money,  or  I  can't  buy  any  dinner." 

"Which  do  you  like  best,  —  selling  papers,  or 
blacking  boots?" 

"  I  like  blackin'  boots.     'Taint  so  hard  work. 

"  Why  didn't  j^ou  take  care  of  your  box?  " 

"  I  laid  it  down  in  a  doorway.  I  guess  some  boy 
stole  it." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Johnny.  I'll  buy  you  a 
new  box  and  brush,  and  we'll  go  ivhacks." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  19 

"  AH  right,  "  said  Jolinm\ 

As  the  allusion  may  not  be  understood  by  some  of 
my  young  readers,  I  will  explain  that  it  is  a  custoin 
among  the  more  enterprising  street  boys,  who  are 
capitalists  to  a  small  amount,  to  set  up  their  more*, 
needy  fellows  in  business,  on  condition  that  they  will  \ 
pay  half  their  earnings  to  the  said  capitalists  as  a 
profit  on  the  money  advanced.  This  is  called  "  go- 
ing whacks."  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  it  is  a 
very  profitable  operation  to  the  young  capitalist, 
often  paying  fiftj^  per  cent,  daily  on  his  loan,  —  a 
transaction  which  quite  casts  into  the  shade  the  most 
tempting  speculations  of  Wall  Street. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  these  young  Bohemians,  law- 

*  les  as  they  often  are,  have  a  strict  code  of  honor  in 

regard  to   such   arrangements,   and   seldom  fail  to 

make  honest  returns,  setting  a  good  example  in  so 

far  to  older  business  operators. 

On  receiving  Johnny's  assent  to  his  proposal,  the 
newsboy  proceeded  to  a  street  stand  on  Nassau 
Street,  and  bought  the  necessary  articles  for  his  com- 
panion, and  then  the  two  separated. 

Johnny,  confiding  in  his  prospects  of  future  profits. 


20  ROVGH  AND  ready;  or, 

stopped  at  the  pie  and  cake  stand  at  the  north-east 
corner  of  Nassau  and  Fulton  Streets,  and  bought  of 
the  enterprising  old  woman  who  has  presided  over  it 
for  a  score  of  j-ears,  a  couple  of  little  pies,  which  he 
ate  with  a  good  appetite.  He  then  shouldered  his 
box  and  went  to  business. 


UFB  AMONG    THE  NEW    YORK  NEWSBOYS,  21 


CHAPTER    II 


LITTLE   ROSE. 


Rough  and  Ready  had  sold  out  his  stock  of  morn- 
ing papers,  and  would  have  no  more  to  do  until  the 
afternoon,  when  the  "Evening  Post"  and  "  Express  " 
appeared.  The  "  Mail,"  "  Telegram,"  and  "  News," 
which  now  give  employment  to  so  many  boys,  were 
not  then  in  existence. 

I  may  as  well  take  this  opportunity  to  describe  the 
newsboy  who  is  to  be  the  hero  of  my  present  story. 
As  already  mentioned,  he  was  fifteen  years  old, 
stoutly  built,  with  a  clear,  fresh  complexion,  and  a 
resolute,  good-humored  face.  He  was  independent 
and  self-reliant,  feeling  able  to  work  his  own  way 
without  help,  and  possessed  a  tact  and  spirit  of  en- 
terprise which  augured  well  for  his  success  in  life. 
Though  not  so  carefully  dressed  as  most  of  the  boys 
who  will  read  this  story,  he  was  far  from  being  as 
ragged  as  many  of  his  fellow-newsboy^.     There  were 


Z2  ROUGH  AND    ready;    OR^ 

two  reasons  for  this :  he  had  a  feeling  of  pride, 
which  made  him  take  some  care  of  his  clothes,  and 
besides,  until  within  a  3'ear,  he  had  had  a  mother  to 
'  look  ^fter  him.  In  this  respect  he  had  an  advan 
tage  over  the  homeless  boys  who  wander  about  the 
streets,  not  knowing  where  they  shall  find  shelter. 

But,  within  a  year,  circumstances  had  changed  with 
our  young  hero.  His  mother  had  been  left  a  widow 
•when  he  was  nine  years  old.  Two  j^ears  later  she 
married  a  man,  of  whom  she  knew  comparatively 
little,  not  from  love,  but  chiefly  that  she  might  secure 
a  comfortable  support  for  her  two  children.  This 
man,  Martin,  was  a  house-carpenter,  and  was  chiefly 
emplo3^ed  in  Brooklyn  and  New  York.  He  removdd 
his  new  wife  and  the  children  from  the  little  Con- 
necticut village,  where  they  had  hitherto  lived,  to 
New  York,  where  he  found  lodgings  for  them. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  months,  she  found  that  the 
man  she  had  so  hastily  married  had  a  violent,  ami 
even  brutal,  temper,  and  was  addicted  to  intemperate 
habits,  which  were  constantly  interfering  with  his 
prospects  of  steady  employment.  Instead  of  her 
eare  and  labor  being  lessened,  both  were  increased 


LIFE   AMONG    THE    NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  23 

The  lodgings  to  which  Martin  carried  his  wife,  at  first, 
were  respectable,  but  after  a  while  there  was  a  diffi- 
culty about  the  rent,  and  ihay  were  obliged  to  move. 
They  moved  frequently,  each  time  compelled  to  take 
dirtier  and  shabbier  accomfnodations. 

Rufus  was  soon  taken  from  school,  and  compelled, 
as  a  newsboy,  to  do  his  part  towards  supporting  the! 
family.  In  fact,  his  earnings  generally  amounted  tol 
more  than  his  stepfather's,  who  only  worked  irreg- 
ularly. A  year  before  the  date  of  our  story,  Mrs. 
Martin  died,  solemnly  intrusting  to  her  son  the  charge 
of  his  little  sister  Rose,  then  six  years  old. 

"  Take  good  care  of  her,"  said  the  dying  mother. 
"  .low  know  what  your  stepfather  is.  Don't  let  him 
beat  or  ill-treat  her.     I  trust  her  wholly  to  you." 

"  I'll  take  care  of  her,  mother,"  said  Rufus,  stur- 
dily.    "  Don't  be  afraid  for  her." 

"  God  will  help  you,  Rufus,"  said  the  poor  mother 
**  I  am  glad  you  are  such  a  boy  as  I  can  trust." 

"  I  aint  so  good  as  I  might  be,  mother,"  said 
Rufus,  touched  by  the  scene ;  "  but  yon  can  trust  me 
with  Rosie." 

Mrs.  Martin  knew  that  Rufus  was  a  sturdy  and 


24  ROUGH  AND  ready;  or^ 

self-relying  boy,  and  she  fc4t  that  she  could  trust  hJn 
So  her  last  moments  were  more  peaceful  than  the, 
would  have  been  but  for  this  belief. 

After  her  death,  Eufus  continued  the  main  support 
of  the  household.  He  agreed  to  pay  the  rent,  —  five 
dollars  monthly,  —  and  fifty  cents  a  day  towards  the 
purchase  of  food.  This  he  did  faithfully.  He  found 
himself  obliged,  besides,  to  buy  clothing  for  his  little 
sister,  for  his  stepfather,  who  spent  his  time  chiefly  in 
bar-rooms,  troubled  himself  verj^  little  about  the  little 
girl,  except  to  swear  at  her  when  he  was  irritated. 

Rough  and  Ready  gained  his  name  partly  from  its 
resemblance  in  sound  to  his  right  name  of  Rufus,  but 
chiefly  because  it  described  him  pretty  well.  Any  of 
his  street  associates,  who  attempted  to  impose  upon 
him,  found  him  a  rough  customer.  He  had  a  pair  of 
strong  arms,  and  was  ready  to  use  them  when  occa- 
sion seemed  to  require  it.  But  he  was  not  quarrel- 
some. He  was  generous  and  kind  to  smaller  boys, 
and  was  alwaj's  willing  to  take  their  part  against 
tliose  who  tried  to  take  advantage  of  their  weakness 
There  was  a  certain  Tom  Price,  a  big,  swaggering 
street-bull}^,  a  boot  black  b}^  profession,  with  whom 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  25 

Rough  and  Ready  havl  had  more  than  one  sharp  con- 
test, which  terminated  in  his  favor,  though  a  head 
shorter  than  his  opponent. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Rough  and  Ready,  in  addition  to^ 
his  strength,  had  the  advantage  of  a  few  lessons  in^ 
boxing,  which  he  had  received  from  a  young  man  who 
had  been  at  one  time  an  inmate  of  the  same  building 
with  himself.  This  knowledge  served  him  in  good 
stead. 

I  hope  my  young  readers  will  not  infer  that  I  am 
an  advocate  of  fighting.  It  can  hardly  help  being 
brutal  under  any  circumstances  ;  but  where  it  is  never 
resorted  to  except  to  check  ruffianism,  as  in  the  case 
of  mj^  young  hero,  it  is  less  censurable. 

After  setting  up  Johnny  Nolan  in  business.  Rough 
and  Ready  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
and  walked  up  Centre  Street.  He  stopped  to  buy  a 
red-cheeked  apple  at  one  of  the  old  women's  stalls 
which  he  passed. 

"  Rosie  likes  apples,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  sup- 
pose she's  waiting  to  hear  me  come  upstaks." 

He  walked  for  about  quarter  of  a  mile,  till  he  came 
in  sight  of  the  Tombs,  which  is  situated  at  the  north 


26  BOUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

west  corner  of  Centre  and  Leonard  Streets,  fronting 
on  the  first.  It  is  a  grim-looking  building,  built  of 
massive  stone.  Rough  and  Ready  did  not  quite  go 
up  to  it,  but  turned  off,  and  went  down  Leonard 
Street  in  an  easterly  direction. 

Leonard  Street,  between  Centre  and  Baxter  Streets, 
is  wretched  and  squalid,  not  as  bad  perhaps  as  some 
of  the  streets  in  the  neighborhood,  —  for  example, 
Baxter  Street,  —  but  a  very  undesirable  residence. 

Here  it  was,  however,  that  our  hero  and  his  sister 
lived.  It  was  not  his  own  choice,  for  he  would  have 
gladly  lived  in  a  neat,  clean  street ;  but  he  could  not 
afford  to  pay  a  high  rent,  and  so  was  compelled  to  re- 
main where  he  was. 

He  paused  in  front  of  a  dilapidated  brick  building 
of  six  stories.  The  bricks  were  defaced,  and  the 
blinds  were  broken,  and  the  whole  building  looked 
miserable  and  neglected.  There  was  a  grocery  shop 
kept  in  the  lower  part,  and  the  remaining  five  stories 
were  crowded  with  tenants,  tAvo  or  three  families  to  a 
floor.  The 'Street  was  generally  littered  up  with  old 
wagons,  in  a  broken-down  condition,  and  odors  fa^ 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  27 

from  savory  rose  from  the  garbage  that  was  piled  up 
here  and  there. 

Crowds  of  pale,  unhealthy-looking  children,  with 
dirt}^  faces,  generally  bare-headed  and  bare-footed, 
played  about,  managing,  with  the  happy  faculty  of 
childhood,  to  show  light-hearted  gayety,  even  under 
the  most  unpromising  circumstances. 

Rough  and  Read}^,  who  was  proud  of  his  little 
sister,  liked  to  have  her  appear  more  decently  clad 
than  most  of  the  children  in  the  street.  Little  Rose 
never  appeared  without  a  bonnet,  and  both  shoes 
and  stockings,  and  through  envy  of  her  more  respect- 
able appearance,  some  of  the  street  girls  addressed 
her  with  mock  respect,  as  Miss  Rose.  But  no  one 
dared  to  treat  her  otherwise  than  well,  when  her 
brother  was  near,  as  his  prowess  was  well  known 
throughout  the  neighborhood. 

Our  hero  dashed  up  the  dark  and  rickety  stair 
case,  two  stairs  at  a  time,  ascending  from  sto^y  to 
story,  until  he  stood  on  the  fifth  landing. 

A  door  was  eagerly  opened,  and  a  little  giri  ^ 
seven  called  out  joyfully :  — 

"  Is  it  you,  Rufus  ?  " 


28  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

At  home,  Rough  and  Ready  dropped  his  street 
nickname,  and  was  known  by  his  proper  appellation. 

"  Yes,  Rosie.     Did  3'ou  get  tired  of  waiting?" 

"I'm  alwaj^s  tired  of  waiting.  The  morninga 
seem  so  long." 

"  Yes,  it  must  seem  long  to  you.  Did  you  go  oat 
and  play  ?  " 

"  Only  a  few  minutes." 

"  Didn't  you  want  to  stay?" 

The  little  girl  looked  embarrassed. 

"  I  went  out  a  little  while,  but  the  girls  kept  call- 
ing me  Miss  Rose,  and  I  came  in." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  'em  !  "  said  Rufus,  angrily. 

"  They  don't  do  it  when  3'Ou  are  here.  They  don't 
dare  to,"  said  Rose,  looking  with  pride  at  her 
brother,  whom  she  looked  upon  as  a  young  hero. 

"  They'd  better  not,"  said  the  newsbo^^  signifi- 
cantly.    "  They'd  wish  they  hadn't,  that's  all." 

*■*  You  see  I  wore  my  new  clothes,"  said  Rose,  by 
way  of  explanation.  "That  made  them  think  I  was 
proud,  and  putting  on  airs.  But  they  won't  do  it 
Bgain." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  her  brother,  puzzled. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  29 

"Because,"  said  Rose,  sadly,  "I  shan't  wear 
them  again." 

"  Shan't  wear  them  I  "  repeated  Rough  and  Ready. 
"Are  you  afraid  to? " 

"I  can't." 

"Why  can't  you?'*  \ 

"  Because  I  haven't  got  them  to  wear." 

Rose's  lip  quivered  as  she  said  this,  and  she  looked 
ready  to  cry. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  Rosie,"  said  the  news- 
boy, looking  perplexed.  "  Why  haven't  you  got 
them,  I  should  like  to  know?" 

"  Because  father  came  home,  and  took  them 
away,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"  WliatI"  exclaimed  Rough  and  Ready,  quickly. 
"Took  them  away?" 

"Yes." 

"  What  did  he  do  that  for?"  said  the  boy,  angrily. 

"  He  said  he  shouldn't  let  you  waste  your  money 
in  buying  nice  clothes  for  me.  He  said  that  my  old 
ones  were  good  enough." 

"  When  did  he  take  them  away  ? "  said  the  boy, 
Ms  heart  stirred  with  indignation. 


30  Rouon  AND  ready;  or, 

*'  Only  a  little  while  ago." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  took  them,  Rosie?" 

"  He  said  he  was  going  to  take  them  to  Baxter 
Street  to  sell.  He  said  he  wasn't  going  to  have  me 
dressed  out  like  a  princess,  while  he  hadn't  a  cent  of 
money  in  his  pocket." 

Poor  Rufus !  He  had  been  more  than  a  month 
saving  up  money  to  buy  some  decent  clothes  for  his 
little  sister.  He  had  economized  in  eveiy  possible 
way  to  accomplish  it,  anticipating  her  delight  when 
the  new  hat  an(t  dress  should  be  given  her.  He 
cared  more  that  she  should  appear  well  than  himself, 
for  in  other  eyes,  besides  her  brother's,  Rose  was  a 
charming  little  girl.  She  had  the  same  clear  com- 
plexion as  her  brother,  an  open  brow,  soft,  silken 
hair  hanging  in  natural  curls,  fresh,  rosy  cheeks  in 
spite  of  the  unhealthy  tenement-house  in  which  she 
lived,  and  a  confiding  look  in  her  dark  blue  eyes, 
which  proved  very  attractive. 

Onlj'  the  day  before,  the  newsboy  had  brought 
home  the  new  clothes,  and  felt  abundantl}^  rewarded 
by  the  delight  of  his  little   sister,   and  tlie  improve- 


LIFE   AMONO    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  31 

ment  in  her  appearance.  He  had  never  before  seen 
her  looking  so  well. 

But  now — he  could  not  think  of  it  without  indig- 
nation —  his  intemperate  step-father  had  taken  away 
the  clothes  which  he  had  worked  so  hard  to  buy,  and, 
by  this  time,  had  probably  sold  them  for  one  quarter 
of  their  value  at  one  of  the  old-clothes  shops  in  Bax- 
ter Street. 

"  It*s  too  bad,  Rosie  !  "  he  said.  "  Til  go  out,  and 
see  if  I  can't  get  them  back." 

While  he  was  speaking,  an  unsteady  step  was 
heard  on  the  staircase. 

*'  He's  coming ! "  said  Rose,  with  a  terrified  look. 

A  hard  and  resolute  look  came  into  the  boy's  face, 
as,  turning  towards  the  door,  he  awaited  the  entrance 
of  his  stepfather. 


82  ROUGH   AND   READY;   OJ?, 


CHAPTER    III. 


A   SUDDEN    MOVE. 


Presently  the  door  was  opened,  and  James  Mar- 
tin entered  with  an  unsteady  step.  His  breath  was 
redolent  with  the  fumes  of  alcohol,  and  his  face  wore 
the  brutish,  stupid  look  'of  one  who  was  under  the 
influence  of  intoxication.  He  was  rather  above  the 
middle  height,  with  a  frame  originally  strong.  His 
hair  and  beard  had  a  reddish  tinge.  However  he 
might  have  appeared  if  carefully  dressed,  he  cer- 
tainly presented  an  appearance  far  from  prepossess- 
ing at  the  present  moment. 

Rough  and  Ready  surveyed  his  stepfather  with  a 
glance  of  contempt  and  disgust,  which  he  did  not 
attempt  to  conceal.  Rose  clung  to  his  side  with  a 
terrified  look. 

"What  are  j^ou  doing  here?"  demanded  Martin, 
sinking  heavily  into  a  chair. 


LIFE    AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  33 

"I'm  taking  care  of  my  sister,"  said  the  newsboy? 
putting  his  arm  protectingly  round  Rose's  neck. 

"You'd  better  go  to  work.  I  can  take  care  of 
her,"  said  the  stepfather. 

"  Nice  care  you  take  of  her ! "  retorted  the  newsboy, 
indignantly. 

"  Don't  you  be  impudent,  you  young  rascal,"  said 
Martin,  with  an  unsteady  voice.  "  If  you  are^  I'll  give 
you  a  flogging." 

"  Don't  talk  to  him,  Rufie,"  said  little  Rose,  who 
had  reason  to  fear  her  stepfather. 

"  I  must,  Rosie,"  said  the  newsboy.  In  a  low  voice. 

"  "What  are  you  muttering  there  ?"  demanded  the 
drunkard,  suspiciously. 

*' Where  are  my  sister's  new  clothes?"  asked 
Rough  and  Ready. 

"  I  don't  know  about  any  new  clothes.  She  aint 
got  any  as  I  know  of." 

"  She  had  some  this  morning,  —  some  that  I 
bought  and  paid  for.  What  have  you  done  with 
them?" 

"  Fve  sold  'em,"  said  Martin,  doggedly,  his  assumed 


54  HOUGH  AND    ready:    «7J, 

ignorance  ceasing.  *'  That's  what  I've  done  with 
'em." 

"  "What  did  you  sell  them  for  ? "  demanded  the 
newsboy,  persistently. 

"  What  business  has  she  got  with  new  clothes, 
when  we  haven't  got  enough  to  eat,  I'd  like  to 
know?" 

"  If  we  haven't  got  enough  to  eat,  it  isn't  my 
fault,"  said  the  boy,  promptl3^  *'  I  do  my  part 
towards  supporting  the  family.  As  for  you,  you 
spend  all  youv  money  for  rum,  and  some  of  mine 
too." 

"  What  business  is  it  of  yours  ?  "  said  the  drunk- 
ard, defiantly. 

"  I  want  you  to  bring  back  my  sister's  clothes- 
What  have  you  done  with  them  ?  " 

"  You're  an  impudent  young  rascal." 

"  That  isn't  answering  my  question." 

"  Do  3'ou  want  me  to  give  you  a  flogging  ?  "  asked 
Martin,  looking  angrilj^  at  our  hero  from  his  inflamed 
eyes. 

"  Don't  say  any  more  to  him,  Rufus,"  said  lU*^e 
Ro99,  timidly. 


LIFE  AMdNG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  35 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  stealing  a 
fittle  girl's  clothes,  and  selling  them  for  rum,"  said 
the  newsboy,  scornfully. 

This  was  apparently  too  much  for  the  temper  of 
Martin,  never  very  good.  He  rose  from  his  chair, 
and  made  a  movement  towards  the  newsboy,  with  the 
purpose  of  inflicting  punishment  upon  him  for  his 
bold  speech.  But  he  had  drunk  deeply  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  since  selling  little  Rose's  clothes,  had  in- 
vested part  of  the  proceeds  in  additional  liquor, 
which  now  had  its  effect.  He  stood  a  moment  waver- 
ing, then  made  a  step  forward,  but  the  room  seemed 
to  reel  about,  and  he  fell  forward  in  the  stupor  of 
intoxication.  He  did  not  attempt  to  rise,  but  lay 
where  he  fell,  breathing  heavily. 

"  O  Rufus  !  "  cried  Rose,  clinging  still  more  closely 
to  her  brother,  whom  she  felt  to  be  her  only  protector. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Rosie,"  said  the  newsboy.  "  He 
won't  hurt  you.     He's  too  drunk  for  that." 

"  But  when  he  gets  over  it,  he'll  be  so  angry,  he'll 
beat  me." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  him  do  it !  "  said  the  newsboy,  lua 
eye  flashing. 


36  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  I'm  so  afraid  of  him,  Rufus.  He  wasn't  quite  so 
bad  when  mother  was  alive.  It's  awful  to  live  with 
him." 

"  You  shan't  live  with  him  any  longer,  Rose." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Rufus?"  said  the  little  girl, 
with  an  inquiring  glance. 

"  I  mean  that  I'm  going  to  take  you  away,"  said 
the  boy,  firmly.  "  You  shan't  live  any  longer  with 
such  a  brute." 

"  Where  can  we  go,  Rufus?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Any  place  will  be  better  than 
here." 

"But  will  he  let  me  go?"  asked  Rose,  with  a  timid 
look  at  the  form  stretched  out  at  her  feet. 

"  I  shan't  ask  him." 

"  He  will  be  angry." 

"  Let  him  be.  We've  had  enough  of  him.  We'b 
go  awaj'-  and  live  by  ourselves." 

"That  will  be  nice,"  said  little  Rose,  hopefully 
"  somewhere  where  he  cannot  find  us." 

*'  Yes,  somewhere  where  he  cannot  find  us." 

"  When  shall  we  go  ?  '* 

"Now,*  said  the  newsboy,  promptly.     "  We'll  ^ 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  37 

while  he  is  lying  there,  and  can't  interfere  with  us. 
Get  your  bonnet,  and  we'll  start." 

A  change  of  residence  with  those  who  have  a  su- 
perfluit}^  of  this  world's  goods  is  a  formidable  affair. 
But  the  newsboy  and  his  sister  possessed  little  or 
nothing  besides  what  they  had  on,  and  a  very  small 
bundle,  done  up  hastily  in  an  old  paper  on  which 
Rough  and  Ready  had  been  "  stuck,"  that  is,  which 
he  had  left  on  his  hands,  contained  everything  which 
they  needed  to  take  awa3^ 

They  left  the  room,  closing  the  door  after  them, 
and  went  down  the  rickety  stairs,  the  little  girl's 
hand  being  placed  confidingly  in  that  of  her  brother. 
At  length  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  last  staircase, 
and  passed  through  the  outer  door  upon  the  side- 
walk. 

"  It's  the  last  time  you'll  go  into  that  house,"  said 
the  newsboy.     "  You  can  bid  good-by  to  it." 

"  Where  are  we  going  now,  Rufus  ?  " 

"I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  find,  and  buy  back, 
your  new  clothes.  Rose.  We'll  walk  along  Baxter 
Street,  and  maybe  we'll  see  them  hanging  up  in  some 
shop." 


58  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"But  have  you  got  money  enough  to  buy  them 
back,  Kufus?" 

"  I  think  I  have,  Eose.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have 
them  again?" 

*'  Yes,  Rufus  ;  but  it  is  too  much  money  for  you  to 
pay.  Never  mind  the  clothes.  I  can  get  along  with- 
out them,"  said  Rose,  though  it  cost  her  a  pang  to 
give  up  the  nice  dress  which  had  given  her  so  much 
innocent  pleasure. 

"  No,  Rose,  I  want  you  to  wear  them.  We  are  go- 
ing to  live  respectably  now,  and  I  don't  want  to  see 
you  wearing  that  old  calico  dress." 

Little  Rose  was  dressed  in  a  faded  calico  gown,  which 
had  been  made  over,  not  very  artistically,  from  a  dress 
which  had  belonged  to  her  mother.  It  had  been  long 
in  use,  and  showed  the  effects  of  long  wear.  It  had 
for  some  time  annoyed  the  newsboy,  who  cared  more 
that  his  sister  should  appear  well  dressed  than  him 
self.  He  knew  that  his  sister  was  pretty,  and  he  felt 
proud  of  her.  Feeling  as  he  did,  it  is  no  wonder  tha\ 
his  indignation  was  aroused  by  the  conduct  of  his 
stepfather  in  selling  his  little  sister's  new  clothes, 
which  he  had  bought  out   of  his   scanty    earnings. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  39 

While  they  had  been  speaking,  they  had  walked  to 
the  end  of  the  block  and  turned  into  Baxter  Street. 

Baxter  Street  is  one  of  the  most  miserable  streets 
in  the  most  miserable  quarter  of  the  city.  It  is  lined 
with  old-clothing  shops,  gambling-dens,  tumble-down 
tenements,  and  drinking  saloons,  and  at  all  times  it 
swarms  with  sickly  and  neglected  children,  bold  and 
wretched  women,  and  the  lowest  class  of  men.  One 
building,  which  goes  by  the  name  of  Monkey  Hall,  is 
said  to  be  a  boarding-house  for  the  monkeys,  which 
during  the  day  are  carried  about  by  Italian  organ- 
grinders.  It  was  in  this  street  where  Rufus  had 
reason  to  believe  that  his  sister's  clothes  might  be 
found. 

The  two  children  walked  slowly  on  the  west  side, 
looking  into  the  old-clothes   shops,  as  they  passed 

"  Come  in,  boy,"  said  a  woman  at  the  entrance  of 
one  of  the  shops.     "  I'll  fit  3^ou  out  cheap." 

"  Have  you  got  any  clothes  that  will  do  for  thiSi 
little  girl  ?  "  asked  the  newsboy. 

"  For  the  little  gal  ?  Yes,  come  in ;  I'll  fit  her  out 
like  a  queen." 

The  shabby  little  shop  hardly  looked  like  a  place 


10  ROUGH   AND  READY;    OR, 

where  royal  attire  could  be  procured.  Still  it  might 
be  that  his  sister's  clothes  had  been  sold  to  this 
woman  ;  so  Rough  and  Ready  thought  it  well  to  enter. 

The  woman  rummaged  about  among  some  female 
attire  at  the  back  part  of  the  shop,  and  brought 
forward  a  large-figured  de  laine  dress,  of  dingy  ap- 
pearance, and  began  to  expatiate  upon  its  beauty  in 
a  voluble  tone. 

"  That's  too  large,"  said  Rough  and  Ready.  "  It's 
big  enough  for  me." 

"Maybe  you'd  like  it  for  yourself,"  said  the 
woman,  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  suit  my  style  of  beauty," 
said  the  newsboy.  "  Haven't  you  got  anything 
smaller  ?  '* 

"  This'll  do,"  persisted  the  woman.  "  All  you've 
got  to  do  is  to  tuck  it  up  so  ; "  and  she  indicated  the 
alteration.     "  I'll  sew  it  up  in  a  minute." 

"  No,  it  won't  do,"  said  the  newsbo}^,  decidedly. 
*  Come,  Rose." 

They  went  into  another  shop,  where  a  man  was  in 
attendance ;  but  here  again  their  inquiries  were 
fruitless. 


LIFE    AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  41 

They  emerged  from  the  shop,  and,  just  beyond, 
came  to  a  basement  shop,  the  entrance  to  which  was 
lined  with  old  clothes  of  every  style  and  material. 
Some  had  originally  been  of  fine  cloth  and  well 
made,  but  had  in  course  of  time  made  their  way  from 
the  drawing-room  to  this  low  cellar.  There  were 
clothes  of  coarser  texture  and  vulgar  cut,  originally 
made  for  less  aristocratic  customers,  which  perhaps 
had  been  sold  to  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life,  or 
very  possibly  to  procure  supplies  for  the  purchase  of 
rum.  Looking  down  into  this  under-ground  shop,  the 
quick  eyes  of  Rose  caught  sight  of  the  new  dress,  of 
which  she  had  been  so  proud,  depending  from  a  nail 
just  inside. 

"  There  it  is,"  she  said,  touching  the  newsboy  on 
the  arm.     "  I  can  see  it." 

"  So  it  is.     Let's  go  down." 

They  descended  the  stone  steps,  and  found  them 
selves  in  a  dark  room,  about  twelve  feet  square,  hung 
round  with  second-hand  garments.  The  presiding 
genius  of  the  establishment  was  a  little  old  man, 
with  a  dirty  yellow  complexion,  his  face  seamed  with 


42  JIOUGH  AND   READY ;    OB, 

wrinkles,  but  with  keen,  sharp  e^^es,  who  looked  like 
a  spider  on  the  watch  for  flies. 

"What  can  I  sell  you  to-day,  young  gentleman?" 
he  asked,  rubbing  his  hands  insinuatingly. 

"  What's  the  price  of  that  dress  ? "  asked  Rough 
and  Ready,  coming  straight  to  the  point. 

"  That  elegant  dress,"  said  the  old  man,  "  cost  me 
a  great  deal  of  monej^     It's  very  fine." 

"  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  the  newsboy,  "  for  I 
bought  it  for  m}^  sister  last  week." 

"No,  no,  you  are  mistaken,  young  gentleman," 
said  the  old  man,  hastily,  fearing  it  was  about  to  be 
reclaimed.     "  I've  had  it  in  my  shop  a  month." 

"  No,  you  haven't,"  said  the  newsboy,  bluntly ; 
"you  bought  it  this  morning  of  a  tall  man,  with  a 
red  nose." 

"  How  can  you  say  so,  j^oung  gentleman?" 

"  Because  it's  true.  The  man  took  it  fi-om  my 
sister,  and  carried  it  off.  How  much  did  you  pay  for 
it?" 

**  I  gave  two  dollars  and  a  half,"  said  the  old  man, 
judging  from  the  newsboy's  tone  that  it  was  useless 


LIVE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  43 

to  persist  in  his  denial.      "  You  may  have  it  for  three 
dollars." 

"  That's  too  much.  I  don't  believe  you  gave  more 
than  a  dollar.     I'll  give  you  a  dollar  and  a  half." 

The  old  man  tried  hard  to  get  more,  but  as  Eough  \ 
and  Ready  was  firm,  and,  moreover,  as  he  had  only 
given  fifty  cents  for  the  dress  an  hour  before,  he  con 
eluded  that  he  should  be  doing  pretty  well  in  making 
two  hundred  per  cent,  profit,  and  let  it  go. 

The  newsboy  at  once  paid  the  monej^,  and  asked  if 
his  sister  could  put  it  on  there.  A  door  in  the  back 
part  of  the  shop  was  opened,  revealing  an  inner 
room,  where  Rose  speedily  made  the  change,  and 
emerged  into  the  street  with  her  old  dress  rolled 
np  in  a  bundle. 


44  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OJJ, 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A   FORTUNATE     MEETING, 


**  Where  are  we  going,  Rufus  ?  "  asked  Rose,  as 
tLey  left  the  subterranean  shop. 

"  That's  what  I'm  trying  to  think,  Rose,"  said  her 
brother,  not  a  little  perplexed. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Rough  and  Ready  had  acted  from 
impulse,  and  without  any  well-defined  phm  in  his 
mind.  He  had  resolved  to  take  Rose  from  her  old 
home,  if  it  deserved  the  name,  and  for  reasons  which 
the  reader  will  no  doubt  pronounce  sufficient ;  but  he 
had  not  yet  had  time  to  consider  where  they  should 
live  in  future. 

This  was  a  puzzling  question. 

If  the  newsboj'  had  been  a  capitalist,  or  in  receipt 
of  a  handsome  income,  the  question  would  have  been 
a  very  simple  one.  He  would  only  need  to  liave 
bought  a  "  Morning  Herald,"  and,  from  the  long  list 
of  boarding  and  lodging  houses,  have  selected  one 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  45 

which  he  judged  suitable.  But  his  income  was  small, 
and  he  had  himself  and  his  sister  to  provide  for.  He 
knew  that  it  must  be  lonely  for  Rose  to  pass  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  without  him  ;  yet  it  seemed  to 
be  necessary.  If  only  there  was  some  suitable  per- 
son for  her  to  be  with.  The  loss  of  her  mother  was 
a  great  one  to  Rose,  for  it  left  her  almost  without  a 
companion. 

So  Rough  and  Ready  knit  his  brows  in  perplexing 
thought. 

"  I  can't  tell  where  we'd  better  go,  Rose,  yet,"  he 
said  at  last.  "  We'll  have  to  look  round  a  little,  and 
perhaps  we'll  come  across  some  good  place." 

"  I  hope  it'll  be  some  place  where  father  won't  find 
as,"  said  Rose. 

"  Don't  call  him  father,"  said  the  newsboy,  hastily. 
"He  isn't  our  father." 

"  No,"  said  Rose,  "  I  know  that, —  that  is  not  ou 
own  father." 

"  Do  3^ou  remember  our  own  father.  Rose  ?  But  of 
course  you  don't,  for  you  were  only  a  year  old  when 
he  died." 

"  How  old  were  you,  Rufus?" 


46  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  I  was  nine." 

"  Tell  me  about  father.  Mother  used  to  tell  m« 
about  him  sometimes.'* 

"  He  was  always  kind  and  good.  I  remember  his 
pleasant  smile  whenever  he  came  home.  Once  he 
was  pretty  well  off;  but  he  failed  in  business,  and  had 
to  give  up  his  store,  and,  soon  after,  he  died,  so  that 
mother  was  left  destitute.  Then  she  married  Mr. 
Martin." 

"What  made  her?" 

"  It  was  for  our  sake,  Rose.  She  thought  he 
would  give  us  a  good  home.  But  3'ou  know  how  it 
turned  out.  Sometimes  I  think  mother  might  have 
been  alive  now,  if  she  hadn't  married  him." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  she  was,"  said  Rose,  sighing. 

"  Well,  Rose,  we  won't  talk  any  more  of  Mr.  Mar- 
tin. He  hasn't  got  any  more  to  do  with  us.  He  can 
take  care  of  himself,  and  we  will  take  care  of  our- 
selves." 

"  I  don't  know,  Rufie,"  said  the  little  girl ;  "  Tm 
afraid  he'll  do  us  some  harm." 

"  Don't  be  afraid.  Rose  ;  I  aint  afraid  of  him,  and 
I'll  take  care  he  don't  touch  you." 


LIFE   AMONG    TFLE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  47 

The  little  girl's  apprehensions  were  not  without 
good  reason.  They  had  not  done  with  this  man  Mar- 
tin. He  was  3-et  to  cause  them  considerable  trouble. 
What  that  trouble  was  will  be  developed  in  the  course 
of  the  story.  Our  business  now  is  to  follow  the  coui'se 
of  the  two  orphans. 

They  had  reached  and  crossed  the  City  Hall  Park, 
and  now  stood  on  the  Broadway  pavement,  opposite 
Murray  Street. 

"  Are  we  going  to  cross  Broadway,  Eufus?"  asked 
his  little  sister. 

"  Yes,  Rose.  I've  been  thinking  you  would  feel 
more  comfortable  to  be  as  far  away  from  our  old  room 
as  possible.  If  we  can  get  a  lodging  on  the  west 
side  of  Broadway  somewhere,  we  shan't  be  so  apt  to 
meet  Mr.  Martin.  You'd  like  that  better,  wouldn't 
you?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  should  like  that  better." 

"  Now  we'll  cross.  Keep  firm  bold  of  my,  hand 
Rose,  or  you'll  get  run  over." 

During  the  hours  of  daylight,  except  on  Sunday, 
there  is  hardly  a  pause  in  the  long  line  of  vehicles  of 
every  description  that  make  their  way  up  and  Qown 


48  ROUGH  AND   HEADY ;    OR, 

the  great  central  thoroughfare  of  tie  city.  A  quick 
63^6  and  a  quick  step  are  needed  to  cross  in  safety. 
But  the  practised  newsboy  found  no  difficulty.  Dodg- 
ing this  way  and  that,  he  led  his  sister  safel}^  across. 

"  Let  us  go  up  Broadway,  Rufus,"  said  the  littlo 
girl,  who,  living  always  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
city,  was  more  used  to  Chatham  Street  and  the  Bow- 
ery than  the  more  fashionable  Broadway. 

"  All  right,  Rose.     We  can  turn  off  higher  up." 

So  the  newsboy  walked  up  Broadway,  on  the  west 
side,  his  little  sister  clinging  to  his  arm.  Occasion- 
ally, though  they  didn't  know  it,  glances  of  interest 
were  directed  towards  them.  The  attractive  face  of 
little  Rose,  set  off  by  her  neat  attire,  and  the  frank, 
open  countenance  of  our  young  hero,  who  looked 
more  manly  in  his  character  of  guardian  to  his  little" 
Bister,  made  a  pleasant  impression  upon  the  passers- 
by,  or  at  least  such  as  could  spare  a  thought  from 
the  business  cares  which  are  apt  to  engross  the  mind 
to  the  exclusion  of  everything. 

*'If  I  only  had  two  such  children  !  "  thought  a  child- 
less millionnaire,  as  he  passed  with  a  hurried  step. 
His   coffers   were   full   of  gold,   but   his   homo   was 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.         49 

empty  of  comfort  and  happiness.  He  might  easily 
have  secured  it  by  diverting  a  trifling  rill,  from  his 
full  stream  of  riches,  to  the  channel  of  charity ;  but 
this  never  entered  his  mind. 

So  the  children  walked  up  the  street,  jostled  by 
hurrj^ing  multitudes,  little  Rose  gazing  with  childish 
interest  at  the  shop  windows,  and  the  objects  they 
presented.  As  for  Rough  and  Ready,  Broadway 
was  no  novelty  to  him.  His  busy  feet  had  traversed 
every  portion  of  the  city,  or  at  least  the  lower  part, 
and  he  felt  at  home  everywhere.  While  his  sister 
was  gazing  at  the  shop  windows,  he  was  engaged  in 
trying  to  solve  the  difficult  question  which  was  still 
puzzling  him,  —  "  Where  should  he  find  a  home  for 
his  sister  ?  " 

The  solution  of  the  question  was  nearer  than  he 
anticipated. 
%  As  they  passed  a  large  clothing-house,  the  little 
girl's  attention  was  suddenly  attracted  to  a  young 
woman,  who  came  out  of  the  front  entrance  with  a 
large  bundle  under  her  arm. 

"  O  Miss  Manning,"  she  cried,  joyfully,  "  how  do 
you  do  ?  " 


60  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

*^  What,  little  Rose ! "  exclaimed  the  seamstress, 
a  cordial  smile  lighting  up  her  face,  pale  from  con- 
finement and  want  of  exercise. 

''How  are  you,  Miss  Manning?"  said  the  news- 
boy, in  an  off-hand  manner. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Rufus,"  said  the  young 
woman,  shaking  hands  with  him.  "How  you  have 
grown !  ** 

"Havel?"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  pleased  with 
what  he  regarded  as  a  compliment.  "  I'm  glad  I'm 
getting  up  in  the  world  that  way,  if  I  can't  in  any 
other." 

"  Do  you  sell  papers  now,  Rufus  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  expect  all  the  newspaper  editors  would 
fail  if  I  didn't  help  'em  off  with  their  papers." 

"  You  are  both  looking  fresh  and  rosy." 

"  Particular!}^  Rose,"  said  the  newsboy,  laughing. 
"But  you  are  not  looking  very  well,  Miss  Man- 
ning." 

"  Oh,  I'm  pretty  well,"  s^id  the  seamstress  ;  "  but  I 
ilon't  get  much  chance  to  get  out  into  the  air." 

"  You  work  too  hard." 

"I   have    to    work    liard,"    she    replied,    smiling 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  51 

faintly.  "  Sewing  is  not  very  well  paid,  and  it  costs 
a  great  deal  to  live.     Where  are  yo\x  living  now  ?  " 

"  We  are  not  living  anj^where,"  said  Rose. 

"We  are  living  on  Broadway  just  at  present," 
said  Rough  and  Ready. 

The  seamstress  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in 
surprise,  not  understanding  what  they  meant. 

"  Where  is  your  father  now?  "  she  asked, 

"  I  have  no  father,"  said  the  newsboy. 

*'  Is  Mr.  Martin  dead,  then  ?  " 

"No,  he's  alive,  but  he  isn't  my  father,  and  1 
won't  own  him  as  such.  If  you  want  to  know  where 
he  is,  I  will  tell  you.  He  is  lying  drunk  on  the  flooi 
of  a  room  on  Leonard  Street,  or  at  least  he  was  half 
an  hour  ago." 

The  newsboy  spoke  with  some  bitterness,  for  he 
never  could  think  with  any  patience  of  the  man  who 
had  embittered  the  last  years  of  his  mother's  life, 
and  had  that  very  morning  nearly  depr'ved  his  little 
sister  of  the  clothing  which  he  had  pui'chased  for  her 

"  Have  you  left  him,  then  ?  "  asked  the  seamstress 

"  Yes,  we  have  left  him,  and  we  do  not  mean  to  go 
near  him  a^ain." 


52  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

**  Then  j^ou  mean  to  take  the  whole  care  of  your 
little  sister,  Rufus  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

*'  It  is  a  great  responsibility  for  a  boy  like  you." 

"  It  is  what  I  have  been  doing  all  albng.  Mr. 
Martin  hasn't  earned  his  share  of  the  expenses. 
I've  had  to  take  care  of  us  both,  and  him  too,  and 
then  he  didn't  treat  us  decently.  I'll  tell  you  what 
he  did  this  morning." 

Here  he  told  the  stor}"  of  the  manner  in  which  his 
little  sister  had  been  robbed  of  her  dress. 

"  You  don't  think  I'd  stand  that,  Miss  Manning. 
do  you  ?  "  he  said,  lifting  his  eyes  to  hers. 

"  No,  Rufus  ;  it  seemed  hard  treatment.  So  j^ou're 
oroino^to  find  a  home  somewhere  else?" 

*'  Yes." 

"  "Where  do  you  expect  to  go?  " 

"  Well,  that  is  what  puzzles  me,"  said  the  newS" 
bo3%  "  I  want  some  place  in  the  west  part  of  the 
city,  so  as  to  be  out  of  Martin's  way.  Where  do 
you  live  ?  " 

"  In  Franklin  Street,  not  far  from  the  river." 

"Is  it  a  good  place?" 


LIFE   AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  53 

"  As  good  as  I  can  expect.  You  know  that  I  am 
poor  as  well  as  you." 

"  Is  there  any  chance  for  us  in  the  house?"  asked 
Rufus,  with  a  sudden  idea  touching  the  solution  of 
the  problem  that  had  troubled  him. 

"  No,  there  is  no  room  vacant,  I  believe,"  said  the 
seamstress,  thoughtfully.  "  If  there  were  only  Rose, 
now,"  she  added,  "  I  could  take  her  into  the  room 
with  me." 

"That's  just  the  thing,"  said  Rufus,  joyfully. 
"Rose,  wouldn't  you  like  to  be  with  Miss  Manning? 
Then  3'ou  would  have  company  every  day." 

'*  Yes,"  said  Rose,  "  I  should  like  it  ever  so  much  ; 
but  where  would  yow  be  ?  "  she  asked,  doubtfully. 

"  I'll  go  to  the  Newsboj's'  Lodging  House  to  sleep, 
but  I'll  come  every  afternoon  and  evening  to  see  you. 
I'll  give  Miss  Manning  so  much  a  week  for  your 
share  of  the  expenses,  and  then  I'll  feel  easy  about 
you.  But  wouldn't  she  be  a  trouble  to  you.  Miss 
Manning?" 

"  A  trouble,"  repeated  the  seamstress.  "  You 
don't  know  how  much  I  shall  enjoy  her  compan3^  I 
get  so  lonely  sometimes.     If  you'll  come  with  me 


54  ROUGH  AND  READY;    OR, 

now,  I'll  show  you  my  room,  and  Rose  shall  find  a 
home  at  once." 

Much  relieved  in  mind.  Rough  and  Ready,  with  his 
sister  still  clinging  to  his  arm,  followed  the  seam- 
stress down  Franklin  Street  towards  her  home  near 
the  river. 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  55 


CHAPTER  V 


A  NEW    HOME. 


Miss  Manning  paused  before  a  house,  not  indeed 
very  stylish,  but  considerably  more  attractive  than 
the  tenement  house  in  Leonard  Street. 

"  This  is  where  I  live,"  she  said. 

*'  Is  it  a  tenement  house?"  asked  the  newsboy. 

"  No,  there's  a  woman  keeps  it,  —  a  Mrs.  Nelson. 
Some  of  the  rooms   are  occupied   by  boarders,   but 
others  only  by  lodgers.     I  can't   afford  to  pay  the 
board  she  asks ;  so  I  only  hire  a  room,  and  board  my 
self.'* 

While  she  was  speaking,  the  two  children  were 
following  her  upstairs. 

The  entries  were  dark,  and  the  stairs  uncarpeted, 
but  neither  Rough  and  Ready  nor  his  sister  had  been 
used  to  anything  better,  and  were  far  from  criticisiog 
what  might  have  been  disagreeable  to  those  more 
fastidious. 


56  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OH^ 

Miss  Miinning  kept  on  till  she  reached  the  fourth 
stoiy.  Here  she  paused  before  a  door,  and,  taking  a 
key  from  her  pocket,  opened  it. 

"  This  is  where  I  live,"  she  said.  "  Come  in,  both 
of  you." 

The  room  occupied  hy  the  seamstress  was  about 
twelve  feet  square.  Though  humble  enough  in  its 
appearance,  it  was  exquisitely  neat.  In  the  centre 
of  the  floor  was  a  strip  of  carpeting  about  eight  feet 
square,  leaving,  of  course,  a  margin  of  bare  floor  on 
all  sides. 

"Why,  j^ou've  got  a  carpet.  Miss  Manning !  "  said 
Rose,  with  pleasure. 

"Yes,"  said  the  seamstress,  complacentl}^ ;  "I 
bought  it  at  an  auction  store  one  day,  for  only  a 
dollar  and  a  half.  I  couldn't  well  spare  the  money  ; 
but  it  seemed  so  nice  to  have  a  carpet,  that  I  yielded 
to  the  temptation,  and  bought  it." 

*'  It  seems  more  respectable  to  have  a  carpet/' 
said  the  newsboy. 

"  It*s  more  comfortable,"  said  Miss  Manning,  "  and 
it  seems  as  if  the  room  was  warmer,  althoug.i  it 
doesn't  cover  the  whole  floor." 


LIFE    AM(fJ\(r    JJIE    ^VA/r    lORK    2< E WS li(>  )  S.  Oi 

"  What  a  nice  little  stovp, !  "  said  Rose,  admiringly. 
"  Can  3'ou  cook  by  it?  " 

She  pointed  to  a  small  square  stove,  at  one  end  of 
the  apartment. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  boil  eggs,  and  do  almost  anything. 
I  bought  it  at  a  junk-shop  for  only  two  dollars.  I 
don't  have  a  fire  all  the  time,  because  I  can't  afford 
it.  But  it  is  pleasant,  even  when  I  am  feeling  cold, 
to  think  that  I  can  have  a  fire  when  I  want  to." 

In  the  corner  of  the  room  was  a  bedstead.  There 
was  also  a  very  plain,  and  somewhat  battered,  bureau, 
and  a  small  glass  of  seven  inches  by  nine  hanging 
over  it.  On  a  small  table  were  placed  half-a-dozen 
books,  including  the  Bible,  which  years  ago  Miss 
Manning  had  brought  from  her  country  home,  the  gift 
of  a  mother,  now  many  j^ears  dead.  The  poor  seam- 
stress never  let  a  day  pass  without  reading  a  chapter 
in  the  good  book,  and,  among  all  her  trials  and  priva- 
tions, of  which  she  had  manj^,  she  had  never  failed  to 
derive  comfort  and  good  cheer  from  it. 

"  How  nice  your  room  looks.  Miss  Manning ! "  said 
Rose,  admiringly, 

"  Yes,  it's  joll}^,"  said  the  newsboy. 


58  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  I  try  to  make  it  as  comfortable  as  I  can  ;  but  my 
means  are  small,  and  I  cannot  do  all  I  wish." 

"  And  are  you  willing  to  let  Rose  come  and  live 
with  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  her.  She  will  be  so 
much  company  for  me." 

"You'd  like  to  come,  Rosie,  wouldn't  you?" 

"  Ever  so  much,"  said  the  little  girl ;  "  that  is,  if 
I  can  see  you  every  day." 

"Of  course  you  will.  I'll  come  up  to  see  how 
you're  gettin'  along." 

"Then  it's  all  settled,"  said  the  seamstress,  cheer- 
fully. "  Take  off  your  bonnet,  Rose,  and  I'll  tell 
you  where  to  put  it." 

"  It  isn't  all  settled  yet,"  said  Rough  and  Ready. 
"  I  must  find  out  about  how  much  it's  going  to  cost 
for  Rose,  and  then  I  can  pay  you  so  much  every 
week.     How  much  rent  do  you  pay  for  this  room  ?  " 

"  It  costs  me  a  dollar  a  week." 

"  Maybe  they'll  charge  more  if  there  are  two 
In  it." 

"  I  think  not  much.  I  could  go  and  ask  Mrs. 
Nelson." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,  59 

"  1  wish  you  would." 

The  seamstress  went  downstairs,  and  saw  the 
landlady.  She  returned  with  the  intelligence  that 
Mrs.  Nelson  would  be  willing  to  have  her  receive 
Rose  on  the  payment  of  twenty-five  cents  additional. 

**  That  will  make  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  for  the 
two,"  said  the  newsboy.  "Then  I'll  pay  sixty-two 
cents  a  week  for  Rose's  share." 

"No,"  said  the  seamstress,  —  "only  twenty-five 
cents.     That  is  all  that  is  charged  extra  for  her." 

"  Rose  must  pay  her  half  of  the  expenses,"  said 
the  newsboy,  decidedly.  "  That'll  be  sixty-two  cents 
a  week  for  the  rent." 

"  But  you've  got  yourself  to  provide  for,  as  well 
as  your  little  sister,"  said  the  seamstress. 

"  I  can  do  it,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  confidently. 
"  Don't  you  worry  about  that." 

"  But  it  seems  as  if  I  was  making  money  out  of 
Rose." 

"No  more'n  she  is  making  money  out  of  you. 
It's  the  same  for  both,  as  far  as  I  can  see,'*  said  the 
newsboy.  "Now,  how  much  does  it  cost  you  for 
eatiii'  a  week?" 


60  SOUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

"  About  a  dollar  and  a  quarter/'  said  the  seam 
stress,  after  a  little  thought. 

"  That's  a  very  little.     What  can  you  get  for  that  ? '' 

"  There's  a  small  loaf  of  bread  ever}^  da3\  I  get 
that  at  the  baker's  round  the  corner.  I  don't  often 
get  butter,  but  I  keep  a  little  on  hand,  so  that  when 
my  appetite  is  poor  I  can  use  it.  When  eggs  are 
cheap,  I  boil  one  for  my  breakfast.'* 

"  Don't  you  ever  eat  meat?  " 

"  Sometimes  I  buy  half  a  pound  of  steak  at  the 
market.  That  lasts  me  two  days.  It  strengthens 
me  up  wonderfully." 

"  Half  a  pound  of  meat  in  two  days !  "  repeated 
Rough  and  Read}^,  wonderingly.  "  I  guess  j^ou 
don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  a  newsboy's  appetite." 

"  No,"  said  the  seamstress,  smiling.  *'  I  never 
was  a  newsboy  that  I  remember." 

"  Rufie  can  sell  papers  as  fast  as  anything,"  said 
Rose,  who  had  a  high  appreciation  of  her  brother's 
merits.  "  I  stood  by  him  one  morning  when  ho  was 
selling.  He  knew  just  what  paper  everybody 
wanted,  and  made  them  buy,  whether  they  wanted  to 
or  not." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  61 

"Oh,  Tm  a  rouser  at  selling  papers,"  said  the 
uewsboy.  "  I  can  sell  more  in  a  mornin'  than  any 
boy  on  the  street." 

"  You  look  like  a  smart  boy." 

"Do.  I?  I  wish  other  people  thought  so;  but  I 
tried  for  a  place  once,  and  the  man  looked  at  me  as  if 
he  thought  Td  start  off  early  some  mornin*  with  his 
cash-box,  and  declined  engagin'  me.  Maybe  he 
thought  I  looked  too  smart." 

"  Rufie  wouldn't  steal  for  anything ! "  said  Rose, 
with  indignant  emphasis. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  IVe  stolen  you  this 
momin'.  I  expect  Mr.  Martin  will  open  his  eyes 
wider'n  usual  when  he  finds  you  are  gone.  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do,  Miss  Manning,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  the  seamstress.  "  As  near  as  I  can  make 
out.  Rose  will  cost  about  three  dollars  a  week." 

"  That's  too  much.  Sixty-two  cents  and  a  dollar 
and  a  quarter  make  not  quite  two  dollars." 

"I  know  that,  but  you  will  want  to  live  a  little 
Detter  than  you  have  dono.  You  must  have  meat 
^ftener,  and  will  want  fire  all  the  time  when  it's  cold. 


62  ROVQH  AND   REAi^Y;    OR, 

Then  it  won't  do  you  any  hurt  to  have  a  good  cup  of 
tea  every  night." 

"But  three  dollars  seem  a  good  deal  for  3'ou  to 
pay,"  expostulated  Miss  Manning. 

*'  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  that.  I  can  work 
more  cheerful,  if  I  know  that  Rose  is  comfortable. 
Maybe,  if  I'll  buy  her  a  book,  you'll  teach  her  a  little 
every  day." 

"  I  will,  and  with  great  pleasure." 

"  Then  I'll  bring  the  book  along  to-night." 

"Oh,  there's  one  thing  more,"  said  Rougn  and 
Ready,  suddenly.  "  Don't  you  want  to  take  another 
boarder  ?  " 

"  Another  boarder?" 

"  Yes,  I'd  like  to  come  round,  and  take  8<"'.pper 
with  you  every  night.  Breakfast  I'll  get  ?',  the 
Lodgin'  House,  and  dinner  at  a  restaurant,  "mt  it 
wcKild  be  pleasant  to  come  round,  and  eat  •  appei 
with  you  and  Rose." 

"It  would  be  pleasant  for  us  also,"  said  Miss 
Manning. 

"  I  guess  that'll  cost  3'ou  a  dollar  a  week  mere*  so 
I'll  pay  3'ou  four  dollai's  a  week." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  63 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  you  pay  so  much.  I  feel  as 
if  I  were  making  mone}^  out  of  you." 

"  I'll  take  care  j^ou  don't.  You  don't  know  what 
an  appetite  I've  got.  I'll  come  round  at  six  every 
evening,  or  before ;  only  six  can  be  the  hour  for 
supper." 

"  Very  well,  Rufus,  but  you  must  promise  me  one 
thing." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  That  if  you  find  it  is  too  hard  on  you  to  pay  so 
much  money,  you  will  let  me  know." 

"  All  right.     So  it's  all  settled? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Good !  "  said  the  newsboy,  with  an  air  of  satis- 
faction. "  Now  I  must  be  goin'  to  business.  I  don't 
know  exactly  what  time  it  is,  as  I  left  my  gold 
watch  lyin'  on  the  sofy  in  Leonard  Street." 

"  Oh,  what  a  story,  Rufie  !  "  said  Rose.  "  He  hasn't 
got  any  gold  watch.  Miss  Manning,  and  we  didn't 
have  any  sofy  in  Leonard  Street." 

**  That's  the  way  she's  always  exposin'  me,  Miss 
Manning,"  said  the  newsbo}^,  laughing. 

**  Well,  Rosy,  good-by.     It's  time  for  the  evenin' 


64  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

papers  to  be  out,  and  I  mast  be  on  band,  as  tbe  other 
boys/' 

He  kissed  his  little  sister,  and  hurried  downstairs. 
A.S  he  was  making  his  way  towards  the  offices  of  the 
evening  papers,  he  felt  great  satisfaction  in  thinking 
of  his  unexpected  good  fortune  in  finding  so  desira- 
ble a  home  for  his  little  sister.  Hitherto  he  had  felt 
a  great  deal  of  anxiety  about  her,  during  his  ne- 
cessary absence  during  the  day,  knowing  only  too 
well  the  character  of  his  stepfather.  He  had  known 
that  there  was  danojer  of  little  Rose  being  abused  in 
his  frequent  fits  of  intoxication,  and  more  than  once 
his  heart  was  filled  with  apprehension,  as  he  ascended 
the  stairs  to  the  cold  and  cheerless  room  in  Leonard 
Street,  which  he  had  been  forced  to  call  home  for  the 
lack  of  a  better. 

But  now  there  was  a  great  change  for  the  better. 
He  knew  that  Miss  Manning  would  be  kind  to  little 
Rose,  and  would  take  good  care  of  her,  as  well  as 
provide  her  with  pleasant  company,  while  he  was  on 
the  street  selling  papers.  It  was  pleasant  to  him  also 
to  reflect  that  the  arrangement  would  be  an  advan- 
tageous one  for  the  seamstress.     He  had  noticed  her 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  65 

pale  cheek,  and  he  felt  sure  that  it  proceeded,  not 
only  from  stead}^  and  confining  work,  but  also  from 
a  lack  of  nourishing  food.  She  would  now  be  able 
to  live  better  and  more  comfortable,  and  without  ex- 
ceeding the  sum  which  she  had  hitherto  been  accus- 
tomed to  expend.  In  the  first  place,  she  would  have 
to  pay  thirty-eight  cents  less  weekly  for  rent,  and 
though  this  may  seem  a  very  small  sum  to  the  boys 
and  girls  who  may  read  my  story,  it  represented  to 
the  poor  seamstress  the  proceeds  of  an  entire  day's 
work,  beginning  at  early  morning,  and  extending  f6r 
fourteen  hours.  So,  while  Rough  and  Ready  thought 
principally  of  his  sister,  it  pleased  him  to  feel  that 
in  benefiting  her  he  was  also  benefiting  the  one  who 
had  agreed  to  take  charge  of  her. 

Then,  as  to  himself,  although  he  would  pass  his 
nights  at  the  Lodging  House,  and  eat  breakfast  there, 
once  a  day  he  would  be  at  the  little  room  in  Franklin 
Street,  and  this  would  make  him  feel  that  he  had 
some  share  in  his  sister's  home. 

He  made  his   way  to  the  offices   of  the    evening 
papers,  obtained  a  supply,  and  was  soon  busily  en 
gaged  in  disposing  of  them.     While  he  is  thus    en 


66 


ROUGH  AND   ready;    OR, 


gaged,  we  must  go  back  to  Leonard  Street,  which 
the  newsboy  and  his  sister  have  left,  as  they  hope, 
forevei 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW  YORK    NEWSBOYS.  67 


CHAPTER    VI. 


MARTIN  S  AWAKENING. 


James  Martin  lay  in  a  drunken  stupor  for  about 
an  hour  after  Rough  and  Ready  and  his  sister  left 
the  room.  Then  he  roused  a  little,  and  muttered 
"  Rose." 

But  there  was  no  answer. 

"  Rose,"  he  repeated,  not  stirring  from  nis  recum- 
bent position,  "  have  you  got  anything  to  eat  in  the 
house  ?  " 

But  the  little  girl  whom  he  addressed  was  already 
in  her  new  home  on  Franklin  Street. 

"  Why  don't  j^ou  answer?"  demanded  he,  angrily. 
"  I'll  give  you  a  licking." 

As  this  threat  also  elicited  no  response,  he  turned 
over  and  rose  slowly. 

"  The  gal  isn't  here,"  he  said,  after  looking  about 
him.     "  She's  gone  out  with  her  scamp  of  a  brother. 


68  ROUGH  AND   READY;    Oil, 

He's  an  obstiDate  young   rascal.     I'll   give    li?m    a 
flogging  some  time." 

Martin  had  often  had  the  disposition  to  inflict  pun- 
ishment upon  our  hero,  but  there  was  a  sturdy 
courage  and  firmness  about  Rough  and  Ready  that 
promised  a  determined  opposition.  So  he  had  es- 
caped where  a  weaker  and  more  timid  boy  would  have 
suffered  bad  treatment. 

Though  Martin  missed  Rose  he  had  no  idea  yet 
that  she  had  left  him  for  good,  as  the  saying  is. 
He  supposed  that  she  had  gone  out  to  stand  by  her 
brother  when  he  was  selling  papers.  He  had  often 
been  drunk  before,  and  probably  expected  to  be 
often  again.  He  felt  no  particular  shame  at  disposing 
of  the  little  girl's  clothes  for  rum.  He  had  somehow 
formed  the  idea  that  it  was  the  newsboy's  duty  to 
support  the  famil}^,  and  felt  that  he  had  no  business 
to  spend  so  much  money  on  his  sister's  dress.  He 
could  not  understand,  therefore,  why  Rough  and 
Ready  should  be  so  angry. 

**  Dressing  up  Rose  like  a  princess  ! "  he  muttered. 
"  We're  too  poor  to  spend  money  on  good  clothes 
I  have  to  go  about  in  rags,  and  why  shouldn't  she  ?  * 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  69 

Martin  wore  a  suit  which  had  done  long  and  hard 
service.  He  wore  a  jacket  of  green  cloth,  frayed  and 
dirty,  while  his  other  garments,  originally  black,  were 
stained  and  patched.  He  wore  no  collar  or  necktie. 
On  his  head  was  a  tall  hat,  which  had  already  reached 
that  outward  condition  when  it  is  usually  considered 
fit  only  to  supply  the  place  of  a  broken  pane. 

Such  was  the  stepfather  of  the  newsboy  and  his 
sister,  and  when  to  the  description  I  add  inflamed 
eyes,  a  red  face,  and  swollen  nose,  I  think  my  young 
readers  will  hardly  wonder  that  the  children  had  long 
lost  all  respect  and  attachment  for  him,  if  indeed  they 
had  ever  felt  anj^  When  I  think  of  the  comfortable 
home  he  might  have  had,  for  he  was  a  skilful  work- 
man and  capable  of  earning  good  wages,  I  feel  out  of 
patience  with  him  for  preferring  to  lead  a  life  so  de- 
graded and  useless,  doing  harm  both  to  himself  and 
to  others.  But,  in  a  great  city  like  New  York,  there 
are  many  men  who  lead  lives  no  better  than  James 
Martin,  who,  for  the  brief  pleasure  of  the  intoxicating 
cup,  throw  away  their  own  happiness  and  welfare, 
and  spoil  the  happiness  of  others.     Think  of  thi» 


70  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OE, 

picture,  boy-reader,  and  resolve  thus  early  that  such  a 
description  shall  never  apply  to  you  ! 

Feeling  hungrj^,  Martin  looked  into  the  cupboard, 
and  discovered  part  of  a  loaf  of  bread.  He  was  dis- 
appointed to  find  no  cold  meat,  as  he  had  hoped. 

"  This  is  pretty  poor  living,"  he  muttered.  "  That 
bo}^  must  pay  me  more  money.  He  don't  work  hard 
enough.  How  can  he  expect  three  people  to  live  on 
fifty  cents  a  day?" 

It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  Martin  that  he  ought  to 
h^ve  contributed  something  himself  to  the  support  of 
the  family.  So,  while  he  was  eating  the  bread,  he  con- 
tinued to  rail  against  our  hero,  and  resolved  to  exact 
from  him  in  future  sixt}^  cents  daily. 

"  He  can  pay  it,  —  a  smart  boy  like  him,"  he  mut- 
tered. "  He's  laz}^,  that's  what's  the  matter.  He's 
got  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf." 

Having  eaten  up  the  bread,  and  feeling  still  hun- 
gry, he  explored  the  contents  of  his  pocket-book.  It 
contained  twentj^-five  cents,  being  half  of  the  money 
he  had  received  from  tlie  old-clothes  dealer  for  the 
little  girl's  dress. 

"  That'll  buy  me  a  drink  and   a  plate  of  meat,"  he 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  71 

tbonght ;  "  only  there  won't  be  any  left.  Money 
don't  go  far  in  these  days." 

But  persons  who  get  money  as  this  was  got,  are  not 
very  apt  to  be  disturbed  much  by  economical 
thoughts.  "  Easy  come,  easy  go,"  is  an  old  adage 
and  a  true  one.  So  Martin,  reflecting  that  the  news- 
boy was  out  earning  money,  of  which  he  would  receive 
the  benefit,  saw  nothing  to  prevent  his  using  the  bal- 
ance of  the  money  to  gratify  the  cravings  of  appe- 
tite. 

He  accordingly  went  to  a  neighboring  saloon, 
where  he  soon  invested  his  mone}^,  and  then,  thrust- 
ing his  hands  in  his  empty  pockets,  strolled  listlessly 
about  the  streets.  Passing  through  the  City  Hall 
Square,  he  saw  Rough  and  Ready,  at  a  little  distance, 
Belling  his  papers. 

"  Rose  isn't  with  him,"  said  Martin  to  himself. 
"  Maj^be  she's  gone  home." 

However, this  was  a  point  in  which  he  felt  very  lit- 
tle interest.  There  was  no  particular  object  in  ad- 
dressing the  newsboy  on  the  subject,  so  he  wandered 
on  in  a  listless  way  wherever  caprice  led. 

Strolling    down    Broadway,  he    turned    into  Dey 


72  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 

Street,  though  be  had  no  definite  object  in  so  doing. 
All  at  once  he  felt  a  touch  upon  his  shoclder. 

"  Well,  Martin,  how  goes  it?  "  said  a  stout,  active- 
looking  man,  of  much  more  respectable  appearance 
than  Martin  himself. 

"  Hard  luck  !  "  said  Martin. 

"Well,  you  don't  look  very  prosperous,  that's  a 
fact.    Where  are  you  at  work  now  ?  " 

"  Nowhere." 

"  Can't  you  find  work  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Martin. 

The  fact  was  that  he  had  not  tried,  preferring  to 
live  on  the  earnings  of  his  stepson. 

"  That's  strange,"  said  the  new-comer.  "  Carpen- 
ters are  in  demand.  There's  a  good  deal  of  building 
going  on  in  Brooklj'n  just  now.  I'll  give  you  employ- 
ment m3'self,  if  j^ou'll  come  over  to-morrow  morning. 
I'm  putting  up  three  houses  on  Fourth  Avenue,  and 
want  to  hurry  them  through  as  soon  as  possible,  as 
they  are  already  let,  and  the  parties  want  to  move  in 
Come,  what  do  you  sa}-  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  think  of  going  to  work  just  yet,"  said 


LIFE  AMONO    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  73 

Martin,  reluctantly.     "  The  fact  is,  I  don't  feel  quite 
strong." 

"  Perhaps  there's  a  reason  for  that,"  said  the  other, 
significantly. 

*'  I  don't  feel  well,  and  that's  all  about  it." 

'*  Perhaps  you  drink  a  little  too  often." 

'*  I  don't  drink  enough  to  hurt  me.  It's  all  that 
keeps  me  up." 

"  Well,  thdt's  your  affair,  not  mine.  Only,  if  you 
make  up  your  miud  to  go  to  work,  come  over  to-mor-  \ 
row  morning  to  Brooklyn,  and  I'll  have  something  ' 
for  you  to  do." 

To  this  Martin  assented,  and  the  builder,  for  such 
was  his  business,  passed  on.  Martin  had  very  little 
thought  of  accepting  the  proposal ;  but,  as  we  shall 
see,  circumstances  soon  brought  it  to  his  mind,  and 
changed  his  determination. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  Martin  in  his  after- 
noon wanderings.  He  took  no  more  drink,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  he  was  out  of  money,  and  his 
credit  was  not  good ;  so  when  evening  came  he  was 
comparatively  free  from  the  influence  of  his  earlier 
potations.     About  six  o'clock   he  went  back  to  tho 


74  HOUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

room  in  Leonard  Street.  It  was  about  that  time  that 
Rough  and  Read}^  usually  went  home  to  eat  his  sup- 
per, and,  as  he  was  still  hungr}^  he  proposed  to  eat 
supper  with  the  children. 

But  when  he  opened  the  door  of  the  room,  he  wag 
surprised  to  find  it  empty.  He  expected  to  find 
Rose  there,  at  all  events,  even  if  her  brother  had  no/ 
yet  returned  home. 

"  Rose,"  he  cried  out,  "  where  are  you?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"If  you're  hiding  anywhere,  you'd  better  come 
out^  or  I'll  give  you  something  you  don't  like." 

"  This  is  strange,"  he  said  to  himself  when  again 
there  was  no  reply. 

He  went  across  the  landing,  and  knocked  at  the 
door  opposite. 

A  stout  woman,  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  opened 
the  door. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  my  two  children, 
Mrs.  Flanagan  ?  "  asked  Martin. 

*'  I  saw  them  this  morning." 

*'I  mean  since  morning." 

"No;  the  bov  took  the  little  G:irl  out  about  the 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  75 

inidille  of  the  day,  and  I  haven't  seen  either  one  of 
*em  since." 

"  They  didn't  say  anything  to  you  about  going  out, 
did  they?" 

*'  Shure  the}^  didn't,  and  why  should  they?  They 
go  out  every  day,  for  that  raatter." 

"  Well,  it's  time  for  them  to  be  home  now." 

"  They'll  be  comin'  soon,  it's  likely ; "  and  Mrs. 
Flanagan  closed  her  door,  and  went  back  to  washing, 
—  for  this  was  her  business. 

Martin  returned  to  the  lonely  room,  not  altogether 
satisfied  with  what  he  had  learned.  It  was,  as  he 
knew,  quite  unusual  for  Rose  to  be  gone  out  all  the 
afternoon,  or,  at  any  rate,  not  to  be  back  at  this 
hour.  Besides,  as  he  called  to  mind,  she  was  not 
with  Rough  and  Ready  when  he  saw  him  in  the  after- 
noon.    Where,  then,  could  she  be? 

It  was  from  no  particular  affection  for  Rose  that' 
Martin  put  to  himself  these  queries.  But  it  was 
through  Rose  that  he  retained  his  hold  upon  Rufua 
and  his  earnings.  Besides,  Rose,  though  only  seven 
years  old,  had  been  accustomed  to  get  the  supper, 
and  make  tea  at  times  when  Martin  had  not  money 


76  nouGH  AND  ready;  or,, 

enough  to  buy  any  beverage  more  stimulating.  So, 
on  the  whole,  he  felt  rather  uncomfortable,  and  re- 
solved to  go  out  and  find  the  newsboy,  and  learn 
from  him  where  Rose  was.  He  descended  the  stairs, 
'therefore,  and  made  his  way  to  the  sidewalk  in  front 
of  the  "  Times  "  oflSce,  where  Rough  and  Ready  was 
usually  to  be  found.  But  here  he  looked  for  him  in 
vain.  The  fact  was  that  our  hero  had  sold  off  his 
papers,  and  a  large  number  of  them,  with  greater 
rapidity  than  usual,  and  was  at  this  very  moment  sit- 
ting at  Miss  Manning's  little  tab  e  with  Rose,  eating 
a  comfortable,  though  not  very  extravagant,  supper. 

Martin  went  back  to  Leonard  Street,  therefore, 
still  with  a  vague  hope  that  he  might  find  the  chil- 
dren at  home.  But  he  was  destined  to  be  disap 
pointed.  The  room  was  as  dark  and  cheerless  and 
lonely  as  ever. 

"  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  thought  Martin.    "  Has 
the  young  rascal  given  me  the  slip?  " 

He  had  been  in  the  room  only  five  minutes,  when 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

It  proved  to  be  the  landlord's  agent,  who  collected 
the  rent. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  77 

"  Your  month's  rent  is  due,  Mr.  Martin,"  he  saiil. 

**  I  haven't  got  any  money." 

"  That  answer  won't  do, '  said  the  man,  shortly. 

"You'll  have  to  come  again  to-morrow,  at  any 
rate.  My  boy's  got  the  money  for  the  rent,  and  he 
Isn't  in  now." 

"  You  must  be  ready  to-morrow,  or  move  out." 

"  I  guess  it'll  be  move  then,  if  the  boy  doesn't 
come  back,"  muttered  Martin.  "  One  good  thing, 
he  can't  escape  me.  I  can  catch  him  to-morrow 
morning  when  he's  selling  papers.  Rent  or  no  rent, 
I'll  get  one  more  night's  rest  in  this  room." 

Although  it  was  yet  early  he  lay  down,  and  did 
not  rise  till  the  morning  light  entered  the  room. 
Then,  feeling  the  cravings  of  appetite,  he  got  up,  and 
went  out  in  search  of  the  newsboy. 

"  He  won't  find  it  quite  so  easy  to  get  rid  of  me  aa 
he  thinks  for,"  muttered  Martin,  with  a  scowl. 


78  ROUGH  AND  READY;   OR^ 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   NEWSBOY   AND    HIS    STEPFATHER. 

Rough  and  Ready  passed  the  night  at  the  Lodging 
House,  as  he  had  previously  determined.  The  bed 
which  he  obtained  there  was  considerably  better  than 
the  one  he  had  usually  rested  upon  in  the  room  in 
Leonard  Street.  He  slept  soundly,  and  only  awoke 
when  the  summons  came  to  all  the  boys  to  get  up. 
As  our  hero  lifted  up  his  head,  and  saw  the  rows  of 
beds,  with  boys  sitting  up  and  rubbing  their  eyes, 
the  thought  of  his  freedom  from  the  sway  of  his  step- 
father recurred  to  his  mind,  and  he  jumped  up  in 
very  good  spirits.  He  breakfasted  at  the  Lodge, 
paying  only  six  cents  for  the  meal,  and  then  hastened 
to  the  offices  of  the  morning  papers  to  secure  a  sup- 
ply of  merchandise. 

He    began    to    estimate  his  probable  weekty   ex 
penses.     He  had  agreed  to  pay  Miss  Manning  four 
dollars  a  week  for  Rose's  board  and  his  own  supper. 


LIFE   AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  79 

His  expenses  at  the  Lodging  House  would  be 
seventy-two  cents  a  week.  His  dinner  would  per- 
haps amount  to  a  dollar  more.  This  would  be  five 
dollars  and  seventy-two  cents,  which  he  must  earn  at 
any  rate.  But,  besides  this,  both  Rose  and  himself 
would  need  clothes.  Probably  these  would  cost  an 
nually  fifty  dollars  apiece,  averaging,  for  the  two,  two 
dollars  per  week.  Thus  his  entire  expenses  footed 
up  seven  dollars  and  seventy-two  cents,  or  about  one 
dollar  and  twenty-nine  cents  per  working  day, 

"  That  is  considerable,"  thought  the  newsboy.  "  I 
wonder  if  I  can  do  it." 

Some  boys  might  have  been  frightened  at  this  es- 
timate. But  Rough  and  Ready  had  good  courage. 
He  felt  that  his  sister  and  he  could  not  live  comfort- 
ably for  less,  and  he  resolved  that  if  he  could  not 
make  it  all  by  selling  papers,  he  would  get  a  chance 
to  do  errands,  or  manage  in  some  other  way  to  eke 
out  the  necessary  amount.  But  he  resolved  to  make 
his  newspaper  trade  pay  as  much  of  it  as  possible. 
He  went  to  work,  therefore,  with  a  good  deal  of 
energy,  and  the  pile  of  morning  papers,  with  which 
I>a  started,  melted  away  fast.     At  last  he  had  but  ona 


80  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

left.  Looking  out  for  a  purchaser  for  that,  he  ^Vi\9 
advancing  towards  him  an  old  woman,  dressed  in 
quaint,  old-fashioned  costume. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  look  at  that  paper  of  yourn?  " 
asked  the  old  lady. 

"  Certainly,  ma'am,"  said  Rough  and  Ready  ;  "  it's 
made  to  be  looked  at." 

"  Wait  a  minute.  I  dunno  as  I've  got  my  specs," 
said  she,  diving  her  hand  into  a  pocket  of  great 
depth,  and  bringing  up  first  a  snuff-box,  and  next  a 
red  cotton  handkerchief. 

"  There,  I  know'd  I'd  mislaid  'em,"  she  said,  in  a 
tone  of  disappointment.     "  Can  yovi  read,  boy?  " 

"  More  or  less,"  said  Rough  and  Ready.  "  What 
is  it  you  wanted  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see  I  live  to  Danbury  when  I'm  at 
home,  and  I  heerd  tell  that  Roxanna  Jane  Pinkham 
was  married,  and  I  want  to  know  ef  it's  true.  May- 
be you'll  find  it  in  the  marriages." 

"All  right,  ma'am,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  glan- 
cing over  the  paper  till  he  came  to  the  list  of  mar- 
riages. 

"  Is  this  it.  ma'am?  "  asked  the  newsboy,  reading, 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW  YORK   NEWSBOYS.  81 

"In  Danbury,  Miss  Roxanna  Jane  Pinkham  to 
Pompey  Smith,  a  very  respectable  colored  man  from 
New  York." 

"Massy  sakes!'*  ejaculated  the  old  lady.  "Has 
Roxanna  married  a  nigger?  Well,  she  must  have 
been  put  to't  for  a  husband.  Thank  you,  boy.  Pd 
buy  3^our  paper,  but  I  only  wanted  to  know  for  cer- 
tain if  Roxanna  was  married.  That  does  beat  me, 
—  her  marryin'  a  colored  person  !  " 

"  That's  a  profitable  customer,"  thought  the  news- 
boy. "  I  guess  she  won't  find  that  marriage  in  any 
of  the  other  papers.     This  one  has  got  it  exclusive." 

Immediately  upon  her  return,  the  old  lady  spread 
the  news  of  Roxanna  Pinkham's  strange  marriage, 
and  wrote  comments  upon  it  to  her  daughter  in  Dan- 
bury.  When  the  report  was  indignantly  denied  by 
^  the  lady  most  interested,  and  she  threatened  to  sue 
the  old  lady  for  circulating  a  slanderous  report,  the 
latter  stoutly  asserted  that  she  heard  it  read  from  a 
New  York  paper,  and  she  had  no  doubt  there  was 
something  in  it,  or  it  wouldn't  have  got  into  print. 

This  trick  was  hardly  justifiable  in  the  newsboy ; 
but  he  was  often  troubled  by  people  who  wanted  to 

6 


82  ROUGH  AND    READY ;    OR, 

look  at  his  papers,  but  were  not  willing  to  buy  them, 
and  he  repaid  himself  by  some  imaginary  news  of  a 
startling  description. 

After  disposing  of  his  last  paper,  he  procured  a 
fresh  suppl}',  and  was  engaged  in  selling  these,  when, 
on  looking  up,  he  saw  advancing  towards  him  James 
Martin,  his  stepfather. 

Before  chronicling  the  incidents  of  the  interview 
between  them,  we  must  go  back  to  the  time  of  Mar- 
tin's awaking  in  the  room  in  Leonard  Street. 

He  remembered,  at  once,  the  visit  of  the  landlord's 
agent  the  day  previous,  and  felt  that  the  time  for 
action  had  arrived.  He  knew  that  the  scanty  furni- 
ture in  the  room  was  liable  to  seizure  for  rent,  and 
this  he  resolved  the  landlord  should  not  get  hold  of. 
Accordingly,  dressing  hastil}',  he  went  round  to  Bax- 
ter Street,  and  accosted  the  proprietor  of  a  general 
second-hand  establishment,  with  whom  he  had  pre- 
viously had  some  dealings. 

"  I've  got  some  furniture  to  sell,"  he  said.  "  Do 
you  want  to  buy  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  other.  "  Trade  is  very 
dull.     I  don't  ^ell  a  dollar's  worth  in  a  day." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  83 

*'  Come,  you  shall  have  them  cheap,"  said  Martin. 

"  What  have  you  got?  " 

"  Come  and  see." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  In  Leonard  Street,  just  round  the  corner." 

The  dealer,  always  ready  for  a  bargain,  was  in- 
duced to  climb  up  to  the  attic  room,  and  take  a  look 
at  the  cheap  wooden  bedstead,  with  its  scanty  bed- 
ding, and  the  two  chairs,  which  were  about  all  the 
furniture  the  room  contained. 

"  It's  not  worth  much,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it's  worth  something,"  said  Mai- 
tin. 

"  What'll  you  take  for  it?" 

"  Three  dollars." 

"  I'll  give  you  one  dollar." 

"That's  too  bad.  You  ought  to  give  me  two 
dollars,  at  any  rate." 

At  length,  after  considerable  chaffering,  the  dealei 
agreed  to  give  a  dollar  and  a  quarter,  which  Martin 
pocketed  with  satisfaction. 

Just  as  he  had  effected  the  sale,  the  landlord's 
ftgent  appeared. 


64  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 

"Have  ycu  got  your  rent  ready?"  he  asked  of 
Martin. 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  said  Martin. 

"  Then  you  must  move  out." 

*'  I'm  just  moving." 

"  But  I  shall  seize  the  furniture,"  said  the  agent. 
•*  I  can't  allow  you  to  move  that." 

"  Take  it,  if  you  want  to,"  said  Martin,  in  a  coarse 
laugh      "  I've  just  sold  it  to  this  man  here." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  the  agent,  angrily. 

"  Oh,  well,  it's  nothing  to  me.  Settle  it  between 
you,"  said  Martin,  carelessly,  going  downstairs,  leav- 
ing the  dealer  and  the  agent  to  an  animated  and 
angry  dispute  over  the  broken-down  bedstead. 

"  That  was  neatly  done,"  thought  Martin,  laugh- 
ing to  himself.  "  I  don't  care  which  gets  it.  I  sup- 
pose they'll  have  a  fight  about  it.  Now  I  must  have 
a  good  breakfast,  and  then  for  a  talk  with  that  young 
rebel.  He  thinks  he'i  cheated  me  cleverly,  but  I'm 
not  through  with  him  yet." 

Martin  strayed  into  a  restaurant  at  the  lower  end 
of  Chatham  Street,  where  he  made  a  satisfactory 
breakfast,  with  as  little  regard  to  expense  as  if  hia 


LtFS  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  85 

resources  were  ample.  Indeed,  he  felt  little  trouble 
about  the  future,  being  full}^  determined  that  in  the 
future,  as  in  the  past,  Rufus  should  support  him. 

"  Aint  I  entitled  to  his  earnings,  I'd  like  to  know  j 
till  he  comes  of  age?"  thought  Martin.  1 

So  he  convinced  himself  readily  that  law  and  right 
were  on  his  side,  and  it  was  with  no  misgivings  as  to 
the  result  that  he  approached  the  newsboy  whom, 
from  some  distance  away,  he  saw  actively  engaged  in 
plying  his  business. 

"'Herald,'  'Tribune,'  'Times,'  '  World'!"  cried 
Rough  and  Ready,  looking  about  him  for  possible 
customers. 

"  So  I've  found  you  at  last,"  said  James  Martin, 
grimly  addressing  the  newsboy. 

"  I  haven't  been  lost  that  I  know  of,"  said  Rough 
and  Ready,  coolly. 

"Where  were  you  last  night?" 

"  At  the  Newsboys'  Lodge." 

"  What  made  you  leave  home  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  like  staying  there." 

"  You're  a  mighty  independent  young  man.  How 
old  do  you  pretend  to  be?" 


86  ROUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

"  Fifteen,  as  near  as  I  can  remember,"  said  the 
newsboy. 

"I  didn't  know  but  3'ou  were  twent3^-one,  as  j^ou 
claim  to  be  your  own  master,"  sneered  Martin. 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  be  m}'  own  master,' 
said  Rough  and  Ready,  "  as  long  as  I  have  to  support 
myself." 

"  Aint  I  your  father?" 

"  No,  3^ou  aint,"  said  the  newsboy,  bitterly.  *'  You 
married  m}^  mother,  and  killed  her  with  your  ill-treat- 
ment. I  don't  want  to  have  anj^thing  more  to  do 
with  you." 

"Oh,  you're  mighty  smart.  What  have  you  done 
with  your  sister  ?  " 

"  She's  safe,"  said  the  newsboy,  shortly. 

"  What  business  had  you  to  take  her  away  from 
her  home?"  demanded  Martin,  angrily. 

"  I've  got  the  care  of  her." 

"  She's  my  child,  and  you  must  bring  her  back 
again." 

"Your  child!"  said  Rufus,  contemptuously. 
"  You  did  not  give  a  cent  towards  supporting  her. 
What  little  you  earned  you  spont  for  rum.     I  had  to 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,         87 

[);iy  all  the  expenses,  and  when  I  bought  ray  sister 
some  new  clothes,  you  were  mean  enough  to  carry 
them  off  and  sell  them.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that,  1 
would  have  left  her  a  little  while  longer.  But  th^Sfc 
was  more  than  I  could  stand,  and  I've  carried  her 
where  you  won't  find  her." 

"  Tell  me,  instantly,  where  j^ou  have  carried  her," 
said  James  Martin,  stung  by  the  newsboy's  re- 
proaches, and  doggedly  resolved  to  get  the  little 
girl  back,  at  all  hazards. 

*'I  don't  mean  to  tell  you,"  said  Rough  and 
Ready. 

''Why  not?" 

"Because  she  is  in  a  good  place,  where  she  will 
be  taken  care  of,  and  I  don't  mean  that  you  shall  get 
hold  of  her  again." 

"  You'd  better  take  care  what  you  sa}^,"  said 
Martin,  his  red  nose  growing  redder  still,  in  his 
angry  excitement. 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  your  threats,"  said  the  news- 
boy, quietly. 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  give  you  a  flogging  on  the 
spot." 


88  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OB, 

* '  I  wouldn't  advise  j^ou  to  try  it,  unless  you  want 
me  to  call  a  copp." 

James  Martin  had  no  great  love  for  the  police, 
with  whom  he  had  before  now  got  into  difficulty. 
Besides,  he  knew  that  Rufus,  though  not  as  strong  as 
himself,  was  strong  enough  to  make  a  very  trou- 
blesome resistance  to  any  violence,  and  that  the 
disturbance  would  inevitably  attract  the  attention  of 
the  police.  So  he  forbore  to  attack  him,  though  he 
found  it  hard  to  resist  the  impnlse.  But  he  shook 
his  fist  menacingly  at  Rufus,  and  said,  "  Some  day 
I'll  get  hold  of  your  sister,  you  may  be  sure  of  that, 
and  when  I  do,  I'll  put  her  where  3^ou'll  never  set 
eyes  on  her  again.     Just  remember  that ! " 

He  went  off  muttering,  leaving  Rufus  a  little 
troubled.  He  knew  that  his  stepfather  had  an  ugly 
spirit,  and  he  feared  that  he  would  keep  on  the  watch 
for  Rose,  and  some  day  might  get  hold  of  her.  The 
very  thought  was  enough  to  make  him  tremble.  He 
determined  to  warn  Miss  Manning  of  the  danf,er 
which  threatened  his  little  sister,  and  request  hei 
'*o  be  very  careful  of  her,  keeping  her  continually  un- 
ier  her  e)"e. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,         89 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

ROSE   IN   HER  NEW  HOME. 

At  the  close  of  the  afternoon  the  newsboy,  count- 
ing up  his  gains,  found  that  he  had  made  a  dollar 
and  a  half  by  selling  papers,  and  twentj'-fiye  cents 
besides,  by  an  errand  which  he  had  done  for  a  shop- 
keeper whose  boy  was  sick.  If  he  could  keep  up  this 
rate  of  wages  every  day,  he  would  be  able  to  get 
along  very  well.  But,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  not 
often  that  he  made  as  much  as  a  dollar  and  a  half  by 
selling  papers,  nor  was  there  a  chance  to  do  errands 
every  day.  When  it  was  rainy  his  sales  of  papers 
fell  off,  as  there  were  not  so  many  people  about 
Rufus  began  to  feel  like  a  family  man,  with  the  re- 
sponsibility of  supporting  a  family  on  his  hands. 

He  was  determined  that  his  little  sister  should  no* 
be  obliged  to  go  out  into  the  street  to  earn  anything, 
though  there  are  many  giris,  no  older  than  she,  who 


^0  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

are  sent  out  with  matches,  or  papers,  or  perhaps  to 
beg.     But  Rufus  was  too  proud  to  permit  that. 

"  A  stout  boy  like  me  ought  to  earn  money  enough 
to  take  care  of  two  persons,"  he  said  to  himself. 

About  half-past  five  he  started  for  Franklin  Street , 
for  it  will  be  remembered  that  he  had  arranged  to 
take  supper  with  his  sister  and  Miss  Manning. 

Rose  had  been  listening  for  his  step,  and  as  soon 
as  she  heard  it  on  the  stairs,  she  ran  out  on  the  land 
ing,  and  called  out,  joyfully,  "  Is  that  you,  Rufie?" 

"  Yes,  Rosie,"  said  the  newsboy.  "  What  have  3-0U 
been  doing  to-da}^  ?  " 

"  Tve  had  such  a  nice  time,  Rufic,"  said  the  little 
girl,  clinging  to  her  brother's  arm.  "  Miss  Man 
nlng  began  to  teach  me  m}^  letters  to-day." 

"  How  does  she  get  along.  Miss  Manning?  "  asked 
Rough  and  Read}',  who  b}'  this  time  had  entered  the 
room. 

"  Famously,"  said  Miss  Manning.  ''  She's  very 
quick.  I  think  she'll  be  able  to  read  in  three 
months,  if  she  l^eeps  on  doing  as  well  as  to-day." 

"  That's   good,"  said  the  newsboy,  with   sutisfac- 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  91 

tion.     "I've  always  been  afraid  that  she  would  groTV 
up  ignorant,  and  I  shouldn't  like  fliat." 

''  I'm  no  gi'eat  scholar,"  said  Miss  Manning,  mod 
estly  ;  "  but  I  shall  be  glad  to  teach  Rose  all  I  can.'* 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  a  good  deal  of  trouble  for 
you." 

"  No,  it  is  very  little.  Eose  sits  beside  me,  learn« 
ing,  while  I  am  sewing." 

"But  you  have  to  leave  oflf  to  hear  her." 

"  Leaving  off  now  and  then  rests  me.  Besides,  aa 
you  pa}^  part  of  my  rent,  I  do  not  need  to  work  so 
steadily  as  I  used  to  do." 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  ask  you  to  teach  me  a  little, 
too,  Miss  Manning,"  said  the  newsboy. 

"  I'll  do  it  with  pleasure,  as  far  as  I  am  capable. 
How  much  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Precious  little,"  said  Rufus.  "  I  can  read  some  , 
but  when  I  get  out  of  easy  reading  I  can't  do  much.'' 

"  Can  you  write  ?  " 

"  A  little,  but  not  much." 

'*  I  will  help  3^ou  all  I  can." 

"  Then  I'll  bring  a  writing  book  to-morrow  even* 
ing,  and  a  book  to  real  out  of." 


d2  SOUGH  AND   ready;    ORy 

Rough  and  Ready,  though  not  as  ignorant  as  many 
in  his  situation  in  life,  had  long  deplored  his  ig- 
norance, and  wished  that  he  knew  more.  But 
he  had  been  obliged  to  work  early  and  late, 
and  his  stepfather  was  not  one  to  give  him  assist- 
ance, or  take  any  interest  in  his  improvement.  So 
he  had  grown  up  ignorant,  though  possessed  of  excel- 
lent abilities,  because  he  saw  no  way  of  obtaining 
the  knowledge  he  desired.  Now,  however,  he 
thought,  with  Miss  Manning's  help,  he  might  enter 
upon  a  career  of  improvement. 

"Have  you  seen  father  yet,  Rufie?"  asked  Rose, 
nneasily. 

"  I  saw  Mr.  Martin  this  morning,"  said  the  news- 
boy, emphasizing  the  name,  for  he  would  not  recog- 
nize 2iny  relationship  between  them. 

"  I  mean  Mr.  Martin,"  said  Rose.  "  What  did  he 
Bay?" 

"  He  wanted  to  know  where  j^ou  were." 

"Did  he?"  asked  Rose,  looking  frightened. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Rosie,"  said  her  brother,  putting 
bis  arm  round  his  little  sister's  neck.  "  He  doesn't 
know,  and  I  shan't  let  him  find  out." 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   TOiiK  NEWiiBOTS.  93 

"  But  if  he  should  find  out,"  said  Rose,  in  terror. 
*'  You  won't  let  him  carry  me  off." 

"  No,  I  won't.  Don't  be  frightened.  Do  you  like 
this  better  than  Leonard  Street,  Rosie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ever  so  much." 

Rufus  looked  pleased.  He  felt  that  he  had  made 
the  best  arrangement  in  his  power  for  his  sister's 
comfort  and  happiness,  and  that  he  had  been  very 
lucky  to  find  so  suitable  a  person  as  Miss  Manning 
to  place  her  with. 

While  he  was  talking  with  Rose,  the  seamstress 
had  been  moving  about  quietly,  and  by  this  time  the 
little  table  was  neatly  spread  in  the  centre  of  the 
room.  On  it  were  placed  knives,  forks,  and  plates 
for  three.  The  teakettle  had  boiled,  and,  taking  out 
her  little  teapot,  the  seamstress  put  it  on  the  stove 
for  the  tea  to  steep. 

"  Do  you  like  toast,  Rufus  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Manning ;  but  I  don't  want  you  to  take 
too  much  trouble." 

*'  It's  very  little  trouble.  I  think  Rose  would  like 
toast  too.    Fve  got  a  little  meat  too." 


94  BOUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

She  to*,  k  from  the  cupboard  about  half  a  pound  of 
Bteak,  which  she  put  on  the  coals  to  broil. 

"  I'm  afraid  you're  giviug  us  too  good  a  supper," 
said  the  newsboy.  "  Beefsteak  costs  considerable.  I 
don't  want  you  to  lose  money  by  Rose  and  me." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  that,"  said  Miss  Manning. 
"It  doesn't  cost  as  much  as  you  think  for.  The 
steak  only  cost  me  twelve  cents." 

"But  there's  the  tea  and  the  toast,"  suggested 
Rough  and  Readj^ 

"Toast  costs  no  more  than  bread,  and  six  cents 
pays  for  all  the  bread  we  eat  at  night.  Then  I  only 
need  a  spoonful  or  two  of  tea,  and  that,  and  the 
sugar  and  butter  altogether,  don't  cost  more  than 
eighteen  cents." 

"  Do  5'ou  mean  that  we  can  live  like  this  for  thirty 
cents  a  meal?"  asked  the  newsboy,  incredulously. 
"  Wh}',  I  have  about  as  much  as  that  to  pa}^  for  my 
dinner  at  the  eating-house,  and  the  meat  isn't  as 
good  as  this,  I  am  sure." 

"Yes,  they  charge  considerable  for  the  cooking 
and  the  profits,"  said  Miss  Manning.  "I  do  tho 
cooking   myself,    and    save    all   that." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  95 

By  this  time  dinner,  as  we  may  call  it,  was  ready, 
and  the  tbree  sat  down  to  the  table. 

It  was,  to  be  sure,  an  humble  meal ;  but  it  looked 
very  attractive  and  inviting  for  all  that,  with  the 
Bteak  on  a  plate  in  the  centre,  the  well-browned 
toast  on  one  side,  and  the  little  plate  of  butter  on  the 
other,  while  the  little  teapot  steamed  with  its  fra- 
grant beverage.  It  was  so  different  from  the  way  in 
which  they  had  lived  in  Leonard  Street,  that  it 
seemed  very  pleasant  to  the  two  children. 

"  Isn't  it  nice,  Rufie?"  said  Rose. 

*'  Yes,"  said  the  newsboy.  "  It's  what  I  call  reg- 
'larly  jolly.  Besides,  it  cost  so  little  money,  I  can't 
get  over  that.  I'm  sure  we're  much  obliged  to  Miss 
Manning." 

''  But,"  said  the  seamstress,  "  you  must  remember 
that  if  it's  better  for  you,  it's  better  and  pleasanter 
for  me  too.  You  mustn't  think  I  used  to  live  like 
this  before  Rose  came  to  me.  I  couldn't  afford  to. 
Sometimes  I  had  a  little  tea,  but  not  often,  and  it 
was  very  seldom  that  I  ate  any  meat.  The  rent  came 
hard  for  me  to  pay,  and  I  had  to  work  so  steadily 


96  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

that  I  didn't  feel  as  if  I  could  afford  time  to  cook  any- 
thing, even  if  I  had  the  money  to  buy  it  with." 

"  What  did  you  have  for  supper,  Miss  Manning?  " 
Inquired  Rose. 

"  Generally  I  didn't  get  anything  but  dry  bread, 
without  butter  or  tea." 

"  But  I  should  think  you  would  have  felt  hungry 
for  something  else." 

"  I  didn't  have  much  appetite.  I  sat  so  steadily 
at  my  work,  without  a  chance  to  breathe  the  fresh 
air,  that  I  cared  very  little  about  eating.  My  appe- 
tite is  beginning  to  come  now." 

"  I  think  you  and  Rose  had  better  take  a  walk 
every  day,"  said  Rafus.  "You  both  need  to  breathe 
the  fresh  air.  That  is,  if  you  think  you  can  spare 
the  time." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  can  spare  the  time,  now  that  I  get  paid 
so  well  for  my  boarder,"  said  the  seamstress,  play- 
fully. "  An  hour  or  two  of  my  time  is  worth  very 
little.  How  much  do  you  think  I  earn  when  I  sit 
over  my  work  all  day,  —  about  fourteen  hours  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Rufus.  "  I  think  you  ought 
to  earn  as  much  as  a  dollar." 


LIFE  AMONG    TUE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.  97 

Miss  Manuing  shook  ber  head,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  see  you  know  very  little  about  the  wages  paid^ 
to  us  poor  seamstresses,"  she  said.  "  If  I  were  paid 
a  dollar  for  my  day's  work  I  should  feel  as  if  I  were 
worth  a  fortune." 

''  But  you  earn  near  that,"  said  the  newsboy, 
'*  don't  you?  " 

"  When  I  work  steadily,  I  earn  about  three  shil- 
lings," said  Miss  Manning. 

I  must  here  remind  my  New  England  reader,  who 
is  accustomed  to  consider  a  shilling  about  seventeen 
cents,  that  in  New  York  eight  shillings  are  reckoned 
to  the  dollar,  and  a  shilling,  therefore,  only  repre 
sents  twelve  and  a  half  cents  ;  Miss  Manning's  day's 
work  thus  brought  her  thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents. 

"  Three  shillings  !  "  repeated  Rough  and  Ready,  in 
surprise.  "  That's  very  poor  pay.  I  think  I  do  very 
poorly  if  I  don't  make  as  much  as  a  dollar.  Won't 
they  pay  you  any  more  ?  " 

"  No,  they  find  plenty  who  are  ready  to  take  their 
work  at  the  price  they  are  willing  to  pay.  If  any- 
body complains,  they  take  away  their  work  and  em- 
ploy somebody  else." 

7 


98  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 

"  How  mttch  do  you  think  I  made  to  day?"  asked 
the  newsboy. 

"  A  dollar  and  a  quarter?  " 

"I  made  a  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents,"  said 
Rough  and  Ready,  with  satisfaction. 

"  Rufie's  real  smart,"  said  Rose,  who  was  proud 
of  her  brother,  in  whom  she  felt  implicit  confidence. 

"  You  mustn't  believe  all  she  says,  Miss  Man- 
ning," said  the  newsboy,  laughing.  "  Rose  thinks 
more  of  me  than  anybody  else  does.  But  what  were 
we  talking  about?  Oh,  about  going  out  for  a  walk 
everyday.  If  you  think  5^ou  can  spare  the  time  to 
go  out  with  Rose,  I  think  it  will  do  you  both  good." 

"  We  can  come  round  and  see  you  sell  papers  some- 
times, Rufie,"  said  his  little  sister. 

"  No,"  said  the  newsboy,  hastily,  "  I  don't  want 
you  to  do  that." 

"Why  not?"  said  Rose,  surprised. 

''  Because  Mr.  Martin  is  on  the  lookout  for  Rose* 
and  will  very  likely  be  prowling  round  somewhere 
near  me,  ready  to  pounce  on  Rose  if  he  happens  to 
Bee  her.  So  I'd  rather  you'd  keep  on  the  west  side 
with  her,  Miss  Manning.     If  you  go  on  Broadway, 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,  99 

let  it  be  somewhere  above  Chamber  Street,  wlere 
you  won't  be  seen  from  the  Park.  In  that  y\y  Mar- 
tin won't  be  likely  to  meet  3^011." 

"  It  is  best  to  be  prudent,  no  doubt,"  said  Miss 
Manning.    "  I  will  remember  your  wishes." 

The  next  evening,  Eufus  began  to  study,  under  the 
guidance  and  direction  of  Miss  Manning.  He  gener- 
ally left  the  room  about  nine  o'clock,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  Newsboys*  Lodge,  where  he  now  p*««^«^ 
his  nights  regularly. 


100  SOUGH  AND   heady;    ORy 


CHAPTER    IX. 

MK.    martin's    pecuniary  TROUBLES. 

James  Martin,  after  his  unsatisfactor}'  interview 
with  Eougli  and  Read}',  found  it  necessary  to  make 
some  plans  for  the  future.  He  had  been  forced  to 
leave  the  rooms  in  Leonard  Street ;  he  had  no  longer 
the  newsboy's  earnings  to  depend  upon,  and,  disa- 
greeable as  it  was  to  work  for  his  own  living,  there 
really  seemed  no  other  way  open  to  him.  On  the 
whole,  as  he  had  no  home  and  no  mone}',  lie  was  not 
particular  about  resuming  the  care  of  Rose  at  once. 

He  was  willing  that  her  brother  should  retain  the 
charge  of  her  at  present  at  his  own  expense,  but  none 
the  less  was  he  angry  with  Rough  and  Ready  for  de- 
fying his  authority. 

"I'll  get  hold  of  the  girl  yet,  in  spite  of  him,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "  He'll  find  out  what  I  am  before  I 
get  through  with  him." 

In  the  mean  time,  he  thought  of  tlie  work  which  had 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       101 

been  offered  him  in  Brooklyn,  and  resolved,  as  a 
matter  of  necessity,  to  go  over  and  see  if  he  could 
not  effect  an  engagement.  The  new  houses  he 
remembered  were  on  Fourth  Avenue,  in  Brooklyn 
He  did  not  know  exactly  where,  but  presumed  he 
could  find  out. 

He  crossed  Fulton  Ferry,  luckily  having  two  centa 
about  him.  Fourth  Avenue  is  situated  in  that  part  of 
Brooklj^n  which  is  known  as  Gowanus,  and  is  at 
least  two  miles  from  the  ferry.  The  fare  by  the 
horse-cars  was  six  cents,  but  James  Martin  had  only 
three  left  after  paying  his  ferriage.  He  could  not 
make  up  his  mind  to  walk,  however,  and  got  into  the 
Greenwood  cars,  resolved  to  trust  his  luck.  The 
cars  started,  and  presently  the  conductor  came 
round. 

Martin  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  unconcernedly, 
and,  starting  in  apparent  surprise,  felt  in  the  other. 

*'  Some  rascal  must  have  picked  my  pocket,"  he 
said.     "My  pocket-book  is  gone." 

"  How  much  money  did  you  have  in  it?"  asked  his 
next  neighbor. 

"Forty-five   dollars  and    twenty-five    cents,"  said 


102  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

Martin,    with    unblushing    falsehood.      "  It*s  prett}J 
hard  on  a  poor  man." 

The  conductor  looked  rather  incredulous,  observing 
his  passenger's  red  nose,  and  that  his  breath  was 
mingled  with  fumes  of  whiskey. 

"I*m  sorry  for  j^ou  if  you've  lost  your  pocket- 
book,'*  he  said  ;   "  but  can't  j^ou  raise  six  cents?  " 

Martin  again  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and 
drew  out  three  cents. 

"  That's  all  I've  got  left,"  he  said.  "  You'll  have 
to  take  me  for  half  price." 

"Contrary  to  orders,'*  said  the  conductor. 
"  Couldn't  do  it." 

"What  am  I  to  do  then?" 

"If  you  can't  pay  your  fare,  you'll  have  to  get 
off  the  cars." 

"  It  seems  to  me  you're  rather  hard,"  said  a  pas 
Benger. 

"  I  have  to  obey  orders,"  said  the  conductor.  "  I 
don't  make  the  regulations  myself." 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,"  said  a  lady  opposite,  "  I 
will  pay  your  fare,  sir." 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  Martin.     "I'll  accept 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YOItK  NEWSBOYS,       103 

your  kind  offer,  though  I  wouldn't  need  to  be  be- 
holden to  anybody,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  my  loss. 
It's  pretty  hard  on  a  poor  ipan,"  he  added,  com- 
plainingl3\ 

"  Will  you  accept  a  trifle  towards  making  up  your 
loss?"  said  an  old  gentleman,  who  had  more  benevo- 
lence than  penetration. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  James  Martin,  acceptin§y 
the  two-dollar  bill  which  was  tendered  him,  without   ^ 
feeling  the  least  delicacy  in  so  doing. 

"  You're  ver}^  kind.  I  wouldn't  take  it  if  I  hadn't 
been  so  unfortunate." 

"  You're  quite  welcome,"  said  the  old  gentleman^ 
kindly,  *'  You'd  better  report  your  loss  to  the 
police." 

"  So  I  shall,  as  soon  as  I  return  to-night." 

James  Martin  looked  round  among  the  other  pas- 
sengers, hoping  that  some  one  else  might  be  induced 
to  follow  the  example  of  the  charitable  old  gentle 
man.  But  he  was  disappointed.  There  was  some 
thing  about  his  appearance,  which  was  not  exactly 
engaging  or  attractive,  and  his  red  nose  inspired  sus-  . 
picions  that  his  habits   were   not   quite   what  thoji 


104  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

ought  to  have  been.  In  fact,  there  was  more  than 
one  passenger  who  had  serious  doubts  as  to  the 
realit}'  of  his  loss. 

When  the  cars  reached  the  entrance  of  Fourth 
Avenue,  Martin  descended,  and  walked  up  the  street. 

"  Well, '  he  said,  chuckling,  as  he  drew  out  the  bill 
from  his  pocket,  "  I'm  in  luck.  I'd  like  to  meet 
plenty  as  soft-headed  as  that  old  chap  that  gave  it  to 
me.  He  swallowed  down  m^'  story,  as  if  it  was  gos- 
pel.    I'll  try  it  again  some  time  when  I'm  hard  up." 

JNIartin  began  to  consider  Avhether,  having  so  large 
a  sum  on  hand,  he  had  not  better  give  up  the  idea  of 
working  till  the  next  da}' ;  but  the  desire  to  find  him- 
self in  a  position  in  which  he  could  regain  Rose  pre- 
vailed over  his  sluggishness,  and  he  decided  to  keep 

on.  y 

He  had  not  far  to  walk.  He  soon  came  in  sight  of 
a  row  of  wooden  houses  which  were  being  erected, 
and,  looking  about  him,  he  saw  the  man  lie  .had 
met  in  the  streets  of  New  York  only  a  day  or  two 
before. 

"  Hallo,  Martin  !  "  he  called  out,  seeing  the  nevi 
arri\  al ;  "  have  you  come  over  to  help  us?  '* 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       105 

" Do  you  need  any  help? "  asked  Martin. 

"  Badl3%  One  of  my  men  is  sick,  and  I  am  short- 
Landed." 

"What  do  you  give?" 

"Two  dollars  a  day." 

Wages  are  higher  now,  but  this  was  before  the 
war. 

"  Come,  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  might  as  well,"  said  Martin. 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  would  like  to  have  you 
begin  on." 

The  directions  were  given,  and  James  Martin  set 
to  work.  He  was  in  reality  an  excellent  workman, 
and  the  only  thing  which  had  reduced  him  to  his 
present  low  fortune  was  the  intemperate  habits 
which  had  for  years  been  growing  upon  him.  Mr. 
Blake,  the  contractor,  himself  a  master  carpenter, 
understood  this,  and  was  willing  to  engage  him,  be- 
cause he  knew  that  his  work  would  be  done  well  as 
long  as  he  was  in  a  fit  condition  to  work. 

Martin  kept  at  work  till  six  o'clock,  when  all  the 
workmen  knocked  off  work.  He  alone  had  no  board- 
\ng  place  to  go  to. 


106  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  Where  do  you  board,  Tarbox?"  he  asked  of  a 
icilow-workman. 

"  In  Eighth  Street,"  he  answered. 

"  Is  it  a  good  place?  " 

"  Fair." 

<•  Who  keeps  the  house?" 

"  Mrs.  Waters." 

"What  do  you  pay?" 

"  Four  dollars  a  week." 

This  again  was  lower  than  the  price  which  mechan- 
ics have  to  pay  now. 

"  Is  there  room  for  another?  " 

"  Yes,  the  old  ladj^'ll  be  glad  to  get  another.  Will 
you  come  ?  " 

"  Well,  ni  try  it." 

So  James  Martin  walked  home  with  Tarbox,  and  was 
introduced  to  Mrs.  Waters,  —  a  widow  who  looked 
as  if  it  required  hard  work  and  anxious  thought  to 
keep  her  head  above  water.  Of  course  she  w^as  glad 
to  get  another  boarder,  and  her  necessities  were  such 
that  she  could  not  afford  to  be  particular,  or  possibly 
Mr.  ]SIartin*s  appearance  might  have  been  an  objec- 
tion. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK   NEWSBOYS.       107 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  3^011  won't  have  any  objec- 
tion to  go  in  with  Mr.  Tarbox." 

"  No,"  said  Martin,  "  not  at  present ;  but  I  maj^  be 
bringing  my  little  girl  over  here  before  long.  Do 
you  think  you  can  find  room  for  her?'* 

"  She  might  sleep  with  my  little  girl,"  said  Mrs. 
Waters ;  "  that  is,  if  you  don't  object.  How  old  is 
she?" 

"  She  is  seven." 

"  And  my  Fanny  is  eight.  They'd  be  company  for 
each  other." 

*'  My  little  girl  is  in  New  York,  at  present,"  said 
Mr.  Martin,  "stopping  with  —  with  a  relative.  1 
shall  leave  her  there  for"  a  while." 

"  You  can  bring  her  any  time,  Mr.  Martin,"  said 
Mrs.  Waters.  "  If  you  will  excuse  me  now,  I  will 
go  and  see  about  the  supper." 

In  ten  minutes  the  bell  rang,  and  the  boarders 
went  down  to  the  basement  to  eat  their  supper. 

Considering  Mrs.  Waters'  rate  of  board,  which  has 
already  been  mentioned,  it  will  hardly  be  expected 
that  her  boarding  establishment  was  a  very  styiish 
one.     Indeed,  style  would  hardly  liave  been  a[>preci- 


108  ROUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

ated  by  the  class  of  boarders  which  patronized  her 
A  table,  covered  with  a  partially  dirty  cloth,  stood  in 
the  centre  of  the  room.  On  this  were  laid  out  plates 
and  crockery  of  common  sort,  and  a  good  supply  of 
plain  food,  including  cold  meat.  Mrs.  Waters  found 
that  her  boarders  were  more  particular  about  quan 
tity  than  qualit}^,  and  the  hearty  appetite  which  they 
brought  with  them  after  a  day's  work  in  the  open  air 
caused  them  to  make  serious  inroads  even  upon  the 
most  bountiful  meill  which  she  could  spread  before 
them. 

James  Martin  survej^ed  the  prospect  with  satisfac- 
tion. He  had  lived  in  a  slip-shod  manner  for  some 
months,  and  the  table  set  by  Mrs.  Waters,  humble  as 
it  was,  seemed  particularl}^  attractive.  On  the  whole, 
he  could  not  help  feeling  that  it  was  better  than 
Leonard  Street.  Indeed,  he  felt  in  particularly^  good 
spirits.  He  had  two  dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  had 
worked  three  quarters  of  a  day,  thus  earning  a  dol- 
lar and  a  lialf,  though  he  would  not  be  paid  for  his 
labor  till  the  end  of  the  week.  The  thought  did 
coipe  to  him  once,  that  after  all  he  was  well  rid  of 
Rose,  as  she  would  be  an  expense  to  him,   and  this 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        109 

exjTeiise  the  newsboy  had  voluntarily  assumed.  Now 
he  had  only  himself  to  take  care  of.  Why  should  he 
not  give  up  the  thought  of  reclaiming  her?"  I 

But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  Rough  and  Ready *3 
independent  course  had  offended  him,  and  he  felt  a 
desire  to  '*  come  up  "  with  him.  He  knew  that  noth- 
ing would  strike  the  newsboy  a  severer  blow  than  to 
deprive  him  of  his  sister,  and  leave  him  in  uncer- 
tainty as  to  her  fate.  Revenge  he  felt  would  be 
sweet,  and  he  fully  determined  that  he  would  have 
revenge. 

"Let  him  look  out  for  himself! "  said  James  Mar^ 
tin.  "  I'll  plague  him  yet.  He'll  be  sorry  for  his 
cursed  impudence,  or  my  name  isn't  James  Martin." 

After  supper  Martin  strolled  out,  and  was  not  long 
m  finding  a  liquor-shop.  Here  he  supplied  himself 
with  a  vile  draught,  that  had  the  effect  of  making  his 
red  nose  yet  redder  when  he  appeared  at  the  break- 
fast-table the  next  morning.  However,  he  didn't 
drink  to  excess,  and  was  able  to  resume  work  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

We  must  now  leave  him,  awhile,  and  turn  to  little 
Rose  and  her  brother. 


110  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 


CHAPTER    X. 

WHAT   THE   NEWSBOY   FOUND. 

It  has  been  already  stated  that  Rough  and  Ready 
had  made  a  careful  estimate  of  his  expenses,  and 
found  that  to  meet  them,  including  clothing,  he  must 
average  seven  dollars  and  seventy-two  cents  weekly. 
He  might  get  along  on  less,  but  he  was  ambitious  of 
maintaining  himself  and  his  sister  in  comfort. 

This  was  a  considerable  sum  for  a  newsboy  to 
earn,  and  most  boys  in  our  hero's  position  would 
have  felt  discouraged.  But  Rough  and  Ready  had 
an  uncommon  degree  of  energy  and  persistence,  and 
he  resolutely  determined  that  in  some  way  the 
weekl}^  sum  should  be  obtained.  In  some  honest 
way,  of  course,  for  our  hero,  though  not  free  from 
faults,  was  strictly  honest,  and  had  never  knowingly 
appropriated  a  cent  that  did  not  justly  belong  to 
him.  But  he  was  not  averse  to  any  method  by  which 
he  might  earn  an  honest  penny. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       111 

Durino;  the  first  fortnight  after  Rose  came  under  \ 
the  charge  of  Miss  Manning,  the  newsboy  earned  fif- 
teen dollars.  His  expenses  during  that  time,  includ- 
ing the  amount  paid  for  his  sister,  amounted  to  ten 
dollars  and  a  half.  This  left  four  dollars  and  a  half 
clear.  This  sum  Rufus  put  into  a  savings-bank, 
knowing  that  after  a  time  it  would  be  necessary  to 
purchase  clothing  both  for  himself  and  his  sister,  and 
for  this  purpose  a  reserve  fund  would  be  required. 

One  daj",  after  selling  his  supply  of  morning 
papers,  he  wandered  down  to  the  Battery.  This,  as 
some  of  my  readers  may  need  to  be  informed,  is  a 
small  park  situated  at  the  extreme  point  of  Manhat- 
tan Island.  It  was  on  a  delightful  promenade,  cov- 
ered with  grass,  and  shaded  by  lofty  sycamore-trees. 
Around  it  formerly  lived  some  of  the  oldest  and 
most  aristocratic  families  in  the  city.  But  its 
ancient  glory,  its  verdure  and  beauty,  have  departed, 
and  it  is  now  unsightly  and  neglected.  None  of  its 
old  attractions  remain,  except  the  fine  view  which  it 
affords  of  the  bay,  the  islands,  and  fortifications,  and 
the  opposite  shores  of  New  Jersey.  The  old  families 
have  moved   far  up-town,   and  the  neighborhood  is 


112  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OS, 

given  to  sailors'  boarding-houses,  warehouses,  and 
foiirt)i-rate  hotels  and  bar-rooms. 

The  newsboy  ptrayed  into  one  of  these  bar-rooras, 
not  v/ith  any  idea  of  drinking,  for  he  never  had  been 
tempted  to  drink.  The  example  of  his  stepfather 
had  been  sufficient  to  disgust  him  with  intemperance. 
But  it  was  an  idle  impulse  that  led  him  to  enter. 
He  sat  down  in  a  chair,  and  took  up  a  cop}^  of  tlie 
*'  Morning  Herald,"  of  which  he  had  sold  a  considera- 
ble number  of  copies,  without  having  had  a  chance 
to  read  it. 

Chancing  to  cast  his  ej^es  on  the  floor,  he  saw  a 
pocket-book.  He  stooped  down  and  picked  it  up, 
and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket.  He  looked  about 
him  to  see  if  there  was  any  one  present  that  was 
likely  to  have  lost  it.  But,  besides  the  bar-keeper, 
there  was  no  one  in  the  room  except  a  rough-looking 
laborer  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and  it  was  evident  that  it 
did  not  belong  to  him,  as  he  drew  from  his  vest- 
pocket  the  money  with  which  he  paid  for  his  pota- 
tion. 

The  newsboy  concluded  that  the  pocket-book  be* 
longed  to  some  patron  of  the  bar,  who  had  dropped 


LIFE   AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.        113 

it,  and  gone  away  without  missing  it.  Tlie  question 
came  up,  what  should  he  do  with  it?  Was  it  his 
duty  to  hand  it  to  the  bar-keeper  ? 

He  decided  that  it  was  not.  Bar-keepers  are  apt 
to  have  easy  consciences,  and  this  one  was  not  a  very 
attractive  representative  of  his  class.  He  would  un- 
doubtedly pocket  the  wallet  and  its  contents,  and  the 
true  owner,  if  he  should  ever  turn  up,  would  stand 
very  little  chance  of  recovering  his  money. 

These  reflections  quickly  passed  through  the  mind 
of  our  hero,  and  he  decided  to  retain  the  pocket-book, 
and  consult  some  one,  in  whom  he  reposed  confidence, 
as  to  the  proper  course  to  pursue.  He  had  no  idea 
how  much  the  wallet  contained,  and  did  not  venture 
to  examine  it  while  he  remained  where  he  was.  He 
decided  to  ask  Mr.  O'Connor,  the  superintendent  of 
the  Lodging  House,  what  he  had  better  do  under  the 
circumstances. 

"  I  will  remain  here  awhile,"  thought  Rough  and 
Ready.  "  Maybe  the  owner  of  the  wallet  will  miss 
it,  and  come  back  for  it.  If  he  does,  and  I  am  sure  it 
is  his,  I  will  give  it  up.  But  I  won't  give  it  to  the 
bar-keeper ;  I  don't  like  his  looks." 

8 


114  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

So  Rufus  remained  in  his  seat  reading  the  "  Herald.' 
He  had  never  read  the  paper  so  faithfully  before. 
While  he  was  still  reading,  a  sailor  staggered  in. 
He  had  evidently  been  drinking  before,  and  showed 
<he  effects  of  it. 

"  A  glass  of  rum,"  he  said,  in  a  thick  voice. 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  the  bar-keeper,  obsequiously. 

"  I'm  bound  to  have  a  jolly  time,"  said  the  sailor. 
*  i\e  just  come  back  from  a  voyage,  and  I  mean  to 
Dnike  the  money  fly  while  I  have  it." 

So  sayings  he  drew  out  half-a-dozen  bank-bills, 
rolled  up  tightly  together. 

"That's  the  talk,"  said  the  bar-keeper,  complai- 
Bantly.     "  Nothing  like  being  jolly." 

"Isa3^,  you  drink  with  me,"  said  the  sailor.  •'! 
don't  want  to  drink  alone." 

"  Certainly,  thank  you  ; "  and  the  bar-keeper  poured 
out  a  glass  for  himself. 

"Isn't  there  anybody  that  would  like  a  drink?" 
said  the  sailor. 

He  looked  aromidhim,  and  his  glance  fell  on  Rougb 
and  Ready. 

"  Won't  that  boy  drink?  "  he  asked. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       115 

"  You  had  better  ask  him." 

"I  say,  won't  you  have  a  drink?"  said  the  sailor, 
turning  to  the  newsboy. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  the  newsboy. 

"  Ai'e  you  too  proud  to  drink  with  a  rough  fellow 
like  me?" 

"  No,"  said  our  hero ;  "  but  I  never  drink.  I  don't 
like  it." 

"  Well,  my  lad,  I  don't  know  but  you're  right,"  said 
the  sailor,  more  soberly.  "  My  mother  asked  me  not 
to  drink ;  but  I  couldn't  hold  out.  Don't  do  it,  if  you 
don't  like  it." 

The  bar-keeper  b}^  this  time  thought  fit  to  interfere. 

"  Look  here,  boj^,"  he  said,  angrily,  "  we  don't  want 
any  temperance  lectures  here.  You've  stayed  as  long 
as  you're  wanted.  You  needn't  come  in  here  hurt- 
ing our  trade." 

Rough  and  Ready  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  an- 
swer this  tirade,  but  laid  down  the  paper  and  went 
out,  carrying  the  pocket-book  with  him,  of  course. 
He  did  not  open  it,  even  after  he  got  into  the  street, 
for  the  action  would  be  noticed,  and  it  might  excite 
suspicion  if  he  were  seen  counting  over  a  roll  of  bills. 


116  ROUGH  AND    READY;    Oli, 

which  he  judged  from  the  feeliDg  the   wallet  coi 
tained. 

It  was  now  time  to  lay  in  his  suppty  of  afternoon 
papers,  and  he  therefore  turned  his  steps  to  the  offi- 
ces, and  was  soon  busily  engaged  in  disposing  of 
them.  Indeed,  so  busily  was  he  occupied,  that  he 
quite  forgot  he  had  the  wallet,  in  his  possession. 
The  papers  sold  readily,  and  it  was  not  till  he  was 
ready  to  go  to  supper  with  Miss  Manning  and  Rose 
that  the  thought  of  his  discovery  returned  to  him. 

"  I  will  wait  and  open  the  pocket-book  when  I  get 
to  the  room,"  he  said  to  himself. 

"Well,  Rose,"  he  said,  gayly,  on  entering  the 
room,  "  what  do  you  think  I've  found?" 

"  I  wish  it  was  a  kitten,"  said  Rose. 

"No,  it  isn't  that,"  said  Rufus,  laughing,  "and  I 
don't  think  I  should  take  the  trouble  to  pick  it  up,  if 
I  did  find  one." 

"Do  3'ou  like  kittens,  Rose?"  asked  Miss  Man- 
ning. 

"  Yes,  very  much,"  said  Rose  ;  "  they  are  so  pretty 
and  playful." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  me  get  one  for  you?" 


LIFE   AMONG    THE    NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        117 

**  Will  you?"  asked  the  child,  eagerly. 

"  Yes  ;  there's  a  lodger  on  the  lower  floor  has  three. 
I    No  doubt  she  will  give  us  one." 

"But  won't  it  trouble  you,  Miss  Manning?"  asked 
the  newsbo3\  "  If  it  will,  don't  get  it.  Rose  can  get 
along  without  it." 

"  Oh,  I  like  kittens  myself,"  said  Miss  Manning  ;  "  I 
should  really  like  one." 

"  Now  I  like  dogs  best,"  said  Rough  and  Ready. 

"  Most  boys  do,  I  believe,"  said  the  seamstress. 

"  But  kittens  are  much  prettier,  Rufie,"  said  Rose. 

"  They'll  scratch,  and  dogs  won't,"  said  the  news- 
boy ;  "  but  if  you  like  a  kitten,  and  Miss  Manning  is 
kind  enough  to  get  you  one,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
her  do  so.  But  you  seem  to  have  forgotten  all  about 
my  discovery." 

"What  is  it,  Rufie?" 

Rough  and  Ready  drew  the  pocket-book  from  his 
pocket,  and  displayed  it. 

"Where  did  you  find  it,  Rufas?"  asked  Miss 
Manning. 

"Is  there  much  money  in  it,  Rufie?"  asked  his 
sister. 


118  nouGH  AND  ready;  on, 

*'  I  don't  know  j-et,  I'll  look  and  see,  and  after- 
wards I'll  tell  where  I  found  it." 

He  opened  the  wallet,  and  drew  out  a  roll  of  bills. 
Spreading  them  open,  he  l3egan  to  count.  To  his 
surprise  they  proved  to  be  bills  of  a  large  denomina- 
tion. There  was  one  one-hundred-dollar  bill,  five 
twenties,  six  tens,  and  eight  fives.  He  raised  his 
eyes  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  here  are  three  hundred  dollars,"  he  said. 

'*  Three  hundred  dollars  !  "  exclaimed  Rose,  clap- 
ping her  hands.     "  Why  Rufie,  how  rich  you  are  !  " 

"But  it  isn't  my  money.  Rose,"  he  said.  "You 
must  remember  that.     I  may  find  the  owner." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  won't,"  said  the  little  girl,  looking 
disappointed. 

"But  it  isn't  right  to  wish  that.  Rose,"  said  Miss 
Manning.  "  Suppose  you  had  lost  the  money,  you 
would  like  to  have  it  returned  to  you,  would  you 
not?" 

"  I  suppose  I  should,"  said  Rose  ;  "  but  three  hun- 
dred dollars  would  do  us  a  great  deal  of  good.  You 
and  Rufie  wouldn't  have  to  work  so  hard." 

"  As   for   me,  hard  work  won't  hurt   me,"  sai'^l    the 


LIFE   AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       119 

newsboy.  "  I  rather  enjoy  it,  now  that  I  don't  have 
to  give  my  wages  to  Mr.  Martin  to  buy  rum  with." 

"Have  3'ou  seen  him  lately?" 

"  Not  since  the  time  I  mentioned.  But  now  I  will 
tell  you  where  I  found  this  mone3\" 

Hereupon  the  newsboy  gave  the  account  which  is 
already  known  to  the  reader.  It  will,  of  course,  be 
unnecessary  to  repeat  it  here.  "When  he  had  finished 
speaking.  Miss  Manning  asked,  "  Well,  Rufus,  what 
do  you  intend  to  do  about  the  money  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  Mr.  O'Connor's  advice  about 
it  to-night,"  said  our  hero.  "  Whatever  he  says  I 
ought  to  do,  I  will  do." 

"  Perhaps  you  won't  find  any  owner,  Rufie." 

"We  won't  count  our  eggs  before  they  are 
hatched,"  said  Rufus,  "  and  speaking  of  eggs,  when 
are  you  going  to  give  us  some  more  for  supper.  Miss 
Manning?    Those  we  had  Monday  were  bully." 

"  We'll  have  them  often,  if  you  like  them,  Rufus," 
said  the  seamstress. 

In  five  minutes  they  sat  down  to  supper,  in  which, 
as  usual,  Rufus  did  full  justice. 


120  ROUGH  AND   BEADY ;    OR^ 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE   ADVERTISEMENT    IN   THE   HERALD. 

About  eight  o'clock  Rough  and  Ready  bade  good- 
night to  Miss  Manning  and  his  sister,  and  \vent 
round  to  the  Newsboy's'  Lodge  to  sleep. 

On  entering  the  room  he  went  up  to  the  superin- 
tendent, and  said,  "  Mr.  O'Connor,  I  want  to  ask 
your  advice  about  something." 

"  Very  well,  Rufus,  I  will  give  you  the  best  advice 
in  my  power.     Now  what  is  it  ?  " 

Hereupon  the  newsboy  told  the  stor3'  of  his  finding 
the  pocket-book. 

"Didn't  3'ou  see  any  one  to  whom  j^ou  think  it  was 
likel}'  to  belong  ?  '* 

"No,  sir." 

"  How  long  did  you  remain  after  3^ou  found  it"" 

"  I  waited  about  half  an  hour,  thinking  that  ths 
loser  might  come  back  for  it ;  but  no  one  came." 

"  Why  did  you  not  give  it  to  the  bar-lc<^^'P'^r?" 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       121 

"  Because  I  knew  it  did  not  belong  to  liim,  and  1 
judged  from  his  looks  that,  if  he  once  got  hold  of  it, 
the  true  owner  would  never  see  it  again,  even  if  he 
came  back  for  it." 

**  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  right.  I  only  asked  to 
learn  your  own  idea  about  it.  Now,  what  do  you 
think  of  doing?" 

"  "Wouldn't  it  be  a  good  plan  to  advertise  it  in  the 
'Herald'?" 

"Yes,  I  think  it  might.  Besides,  there  is  the 
chance  of  its  loss  being  advertised  there,  so  that  we 
can  examine  the  advertisements  of  articles  lost." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  will  you  write  an  advertisement?  *' 

"  If  you  wish  me  to  do  so." 

The  superintendent  took  pen  and  paper,  and  drew 
up  the  following  advertisement :  — 

"POUND. — A  pocket-book,  containing  a  considerable 
sum  of  money.  The  owner  can  have  the  same  by  calling  on 
the  Superintendent  of  the  Newsboys'  Lodging  House,  prov- 
lEg  property,  and  paying  the  expense  of  this  advertisement." 

"  How  will  that  do?  "  he  inquired. 


122  ROUGH  AND   BEADY ;    OJtj 

*'  It's  just  the  thing,"  said  Rough  and  Ready 
**  How  many  times  shall  I  put  it  in?  " 

"  Three  times  will  answer,  I  think.  I  will  give 
you  enough  of  the  money  to  pay  for  the  advertise- 
ment, and  you  can  carry  it  round  to-night." 

This  was  done.  The  charge  was  found  to  be  foui 
dollars  and  eighty  cents,  as  the  "  Herald  "  charges 
forty  cents  per  line,  and  the  three  insertions  made 
twelve  lines. 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  'Mr.  O'Connor,  "  I  shall 
have  some  applications  from  adventurers,  who  will 
pretend  that  they  have  lost  a  pocket-book  ;  but  I  will 
take  care  that  it  shall  be  surrendered  only  to  the  real 
owner," 

The  superintendent  was  right  in  this  matter 
Early  the  next  morning,  a  flashily  attired  individual 
mounted  the  long  flights  of  stairs,  and  inquired  for 
him. 

"What  is  your  business,  sir?"  inquired  Mr 
O'Connor. 

"  I  called  about  that  pocket-book  which  you  adver- 
tise  in  the  '  Herald.'  " 

"  Have  you  lost  one?" 


LIFE  AalONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       123 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  is  the  one.  How 
much  did  j^ou  pay  for  advertising?  I  don't  mind 
giving  you  a  trifle  extra  for  j^our  trouble." 

"  "Wait  a  moment.  Where  did  you  lose  your  pock- 
et-book?" 

"  Really  I  can't  say.  I  was  at  a  good  many  places 
down  town." 

"  Then  you  couldn't  give  any  idea  as  to  where  you 
lost  it?" 

"I  think  I  must  have  dropped  it  somewhere  in 
Nassau  Street  or  Fulton  Street.   Where  was  it  found  ?  " 

''I  do  not  intend  giving  information,  but  to ^  re- 
quire it.  It  is  important  that  I  should  not  give  it  to 
the  wrong  party." 

"Do  you  doubt  that  the  pocket-book  is  mine?" 
said  the  other,  in  an  offended  tone. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it.  If  it  is  yours  you  can 
describe  the  pocket-book,  and  tell  me  how  much 
money  there  is  in  it." 

"Well,"  said  the  flashy  individual,  hesitating,  "it 
wasn't  a  very  large  pocket-book," 

"Bi-Dwn?" 

"  Yos." 


124  ROUGH  AND  READY;   OR, 

*' And  how  much  money  was  there  in  it?" 

"  Reall}-,  I  couldn't  tell  exactly." 

*'But  you  can  give  me  some  idea?" 

"  There  was  somewhere  from  fifty  to  sevent3^-five 
dollars,"  said  the  adventurer,  hazarding  a  guess. 

"  Then  it  doesn't  belong  to  you,"  said  the  super- 
intendent. 

"  There  might  have  been  a  little  more.  Now  I 
think  of  it,  there  must  have  been  over  eighty  dol- 
lars." 

"You  are  wasting  your  time,  sii  ;  you  will  have  to 
look  elsewhere  for  3'our  pocket-book." 

The  man  went  off,  muttering  that  he  had  no  doubt 
tt  was  his ;  but  he  saw  clearl}^  that  he  had  failed. 
However,  he  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  his  resources. 
At  the  corner  of  Broadway-  and  Fulton  Streets  he  was 
greeted  by  another  young  man  of  similar  appearance. 

"Well,  Jack,  what  luck?" 

"  I  came  away  as  poor  as  I  went." 

"Then  you  couldn't  hit  the  description?" 

"  No,  he  was  too  many  for  me." 

"  Anyway,  you  found  out  something.  Give  me  a 
Pom  bitit«5,  nii<l  Til  trv  mv  Uu-k." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW.  YORK  NEWSBOYS.        125 

"  He  asked  me  if  the  pocket-book  was  brown,  and 
I  said  3'es.  That's  wrong.  You'd  better  say  it's 
black,  or  some  other  color." 

"  All  right.  I'll  remember.  AYhat  else  did  he  ask 
you?" 

"  Where  I  lost  it." 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"  In  Nassau  or  Fulton  Street,  I  couldn't  say  which." 

*'Was  that  wrong?" 

*'  I  don't  know,  he  didn't  say." 

"What  next?" 

"  He  asked  how  much  money  there  was.  I  said 
from  fifty  to  seventy-five  dollars,  though  I  afterwards 
said  there  might  be  over  eighty." 

"  That's  too  wide  a  margin.  I  think  I'll  say  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  more  or  less." 

"  That  might  do." 

"  As  soon  as  I've  smoked  out  m}^  cigar,  I'll  go  up." 

"  Good  luck  to  you,  Bob.  Mind  we  are  to  divide/ 
if  3'ou  get  it." 

"  You  shall  have  a  third." 

"  No,  half." 

"  I'll  see  about  it ;  but  I  haven't  got  it  yet." 


126  ROUGH  AND   JiEADY,'    OR, 

In  a  few  moments  the  superintendent  received  a 
second  applicant. 

"  Good-morning,  sir,"  said  the  individual  named 
"  Bob."     "  You've  found  a  pocket-book,  I  think." 

"Yes." 

"I'm  glad  of  it.  I  lost  mine  yesterday,  with  a 
pretty  stiffish  sum  of  money  in  it.  I  suppose  one  of 
your  newsboys  picked  it  up." 

"Did  you  lose  it  in  this  street?" 

"  Yes,  I  expect  so.  I  was  coming  from  the  Ful- 
ton Ferr}^  in  a  great  hurr}^,  and  there  was  a  big  hole 
in  mj^  pocket,  that  I  didn't  know  of.  I  had  just  got 
the  money  for  a  horse  that  I  sold  to  a  man  over 
there." 

"  Will  you  describe  the  pocket-book?  What  color 
was  it?" 

"  Black,  that  is  to  sa}^,  not  perhaps  exactl}^  black, 
but  it  might  be  called  black,"  said  Bob,  getting  over 
this  question  as  well  as  he  could. 

"  Very  well.  Now  for  the  amount  of  money  in  the 
pocket-book." 

"  A  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  more  or  less,"  said 
Bob,  boldly. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       127 

*'In  three  bills  of  fifty  dollars  each?"  asked  the 
superintendent. 

^'  Yes,  precisely,"  said  Bob,  eagerly.  "  That  was 
what  was  paid  for  the  horse  I  sold." 

"  Then  I  regret  to  say  that  the  pocket-book  in  my 
possession  cannot  be  yours.  When  I  find  one  answer 
ing  your  description  as  to  color  and  contents,  I  will 
hold  it  at  your  disposal." 

"  Sold ! "  muttered  Bob  to  himself,  as  he  slunk 
downstairs  without  another  word. 

He  rejoined  his  confederate,  who  was  waiting  for 
him  at  the  comer,  and  informed  him  in  expressive 
language  that  it  was  "  no  go." 

"  P'r'aps,  if  we'd  consulted  a  medium,  we  might 
have  found  out  all  abou^.  the  color  and  amount,"  sug 
gested  Jack. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,"  raid  Bob.  "  If  the  mediums 
could  tell  that,  they'd  be  after  *t  themselves.  Where's 
your  '  Herald'  ?  We  may  get  or  better  at  some  othe? 
place." 

They  found  an  advertisement  of  a  diauond  ring 
found,  and  started  in  pursuit  of  the  fucker,     ^&  Tiicl» 


128  ROUGH  AND   READY;   OR, 

said,  "We  might  get  it,  3'ou  know;  and  if  we  don't, 
there's  no  harm  done." 

Mr.  0'  Connor  had  various  other  applications  for 
the  pocket-book,  of  which  -we  will  only  describe  one. 

A  woman  dressed  in  black  presented  herself  about 
noon. 

"Is  this  the  superintendent?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"I  came  to  see  you  about  that  pocket-book  you 
advertise.  I  am  a  widow  with  six  children,  and  I 
have  hard  work  to  get  along.  Yesterda^^  I  sent  out 
my  oldest  boy  to  pay  the  rent ;  but  he  is  a  careless 
boy,  and  I  suppose  he  got  to  playing  in  the  street, 
and  it  fell  out  of  his  pocket.  It  was  a  great  loss  to 
me,  and  a  widow's  blessings  shall  rest  upon  3^ou,  sir, 
if  you  restore  it.  JNIy  boy's  name  is  Ilenr}^,  and  I 
can  bring  you  the  best  recommendations  that  I  am 
a  respectable  woman,  and  my  word  can  be  relied 
upon." 

This  speech  was  delivered  with  si^ch  volubility, 
and  with  such  a  stead}'  flow  of  words,  that  the  super 
intendent  had  no  opportunity  of  interrupting  her. 


LIFE   AMONO    THE  ^'ETV   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       129 

"May  I  ask  your  name,  madam?"  he  said  at 
length. 

"My  name  is  Manson,  sir,  Mrs.  Manson.  My 
husband  was  an  honest  man,  —  he  was  a  blacksmith,  — 
but  he  was  took  down  sudden  with  a  fever  about  three 
years  ago,  that  carried  him  off,  and  left  me  to  get 
along  as  well  as  I  could  with  my  family  of  children. 
I  ought  to  be  back  now ;  so  if  you'll  give  it  to  me,  you 
you  can  take  what  you  like  for  the  advertising,  and 
to  pay  you  for  your  trouble." 

"  You  are  a  little  too  fast,  Mrs.  Manson.  How 
am  I  to  know  that  the  pocket-book  is  yours  ?  " 

"I'll  bring  my  son  Henry  to  prove  that  he  lost  the 
pocket-book  when  he  was  going  to  pay  the  rent." 

"  That  will  not  be  necessary.     All  you  will  have 
to  do  will  be  to   describe  the   pocket-book   and  its 
contents,  and,  if  your  description  is  correct,  I  wiS 
take  it  for  granted  that  it  belongs  to  you,  and  give  i 
to  you  at  once." 

"Describe  it,  sir?" 

"Yes,  what  was  the  color?" 

"  I  can't  justly  say,  sir,  for  it  was  Henry's  pocket 
9 


130  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

book,"  said  Mrs.  Manson,  hesitating  ;  "  but  I  think  it 
was  black." 

"  And  how  much  money  was  there  in  it?  " 

"  Thirt}^  dollars,"  said  the  widow,  with  a  little  hes- 
itation. 

"  Then  the  pocket-book  isn't  yours.  Good  morn- 
ing, madam." 

"  It's  hard  upon  a  poor  widow  to  lose  her  money, 
sir,  and  then  have  the  finder  refuse  to  give  it  up," 
whined  Mrs.  Manson. 

"  It  would  be,  no  doubt ;  but  it  would  be  equally 
hard  for  the  real  owner  of  the  money  for  me  to  give 
it  to  the  wrong  person." 

"  But  I  think  the  pocket-book  is  mine." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  madam." 

Mrs.  Manson,  who,  by  the  wa}^  was  not  a  widow, 
and  didn't  have  six  children  as  represented,  went 
away  crestfallen. 

A  week  passed,  and  the  mone}^  still  remained  in 
the  hands  of  Mr.  O'Connor.  Numerous  applicants 
had  been  drawn  by  the  advcrtismcfnt,  one  or  two  of 
whom  had  met  with  genuine  losses,  but  the  greater 
part  were  adventurers  who  trusted  to  lucky  guessing 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       13l 

to  get  hold  of  money  that  did  not  belong  to  them. 
The  advertisements  of  money  lost  were  also  carefully 
examined  daily ;  but  there  was  none  that  answered 
to  the  sum  found  b}'  the  newsboy. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  think,"  said  Mr.  O'Connor, 
after  a  week  had  passed,  "  that  you  won't  find  an 
owner  for  this  money,  Rufus.  What  do  you  intend 
to  do  with  it?" 

"I'll  put  it  in  some  bank,  sir,"  said  the  newsboy, 
promptly.  "  I  don't  need  to  use  it  at  present,  but  I 
may  some  time.  It'll  be  something  for  me  to  fall 
back  upon,  if  1  get  sick." 

"  I  am  glad  you  do  not  mean  to  live  upon  it.  1 
was  afraid  it  might  encourage  you  to  idleness." 

"  No,  sir,  it  won't  do  that,"  said  Rough  and  Ready, 
promptly.  "  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  that.  I've  got  a 
little  sister  to  take  care  of,  and  I've  thought  some- 
times, 'What  if  I  should  get  sick?'  but  with  this 
money,  I  shan't  feel  afraid.  I  think  it'll  make  me 
work  harder.  I  should  like  to  add  something  to  it 
if  I  could." 

"  That  is  the  right  way  to  talk,  Rufus,"  said  the 
superintendent,  approvingly.      "  I  think  you   are   a 


132  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OB, 

good  boy,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  help  j'ou  with 
advice,  or  in  any  other  way,  whenever  you  need  it. 
I  wish  you  could  get  an  education ;  it  would  help 
you  along  in  life  hereafter." 

"I  am  studying  every  evening,  sir,"  said  the 
newsboy.  "  Miss  Manning,  a  friend  of  mine,  that 
my  sister  boards  with,  is  helping  me.  I  hope  to  be 
something  higher  than  a  newsboy  some  time." 

The  superintendent  warmly  applauded  his  deter- 
mination, and  a  week  later  gave  the  pocket-book  up  to 
Bough  and  Ready,  feeling  that  every  reasonable 
eflfort  to  find  an  owner  had  been  tried. 


UFB  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       133 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  VISIT  TO   GREENWOOD   CEMETERY. 

One  day  Rough  and  Ready  came  to  see  his  sister, 
and  displayed  a  bank-book  on  one  of  the  city  savings- 
banks,  containing  an  entry  of  three  hundred  dollars 
to  his  credit. 

""What  do  you  think  of  that,  Rosie?'*  he  said. 
*'  Don't  you  think  I  am  rich?  " 

"  I  don*t  see  anything  but  a  little  book,''  said  Rose, 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  way  in  which  savings-banks 
were  conducted.  "  There  isn't  any  money  in  it,"  she 
continued,  turning  over  the  leaves  with  the  expec- 
tation of  finding  some  bills  folded  between  them. 

"  You  don't  understand  it,  Rose.  That  little  book 
IS  worth  three  hundred  dollars." 

"  Three  hundred  dollars  !  Why,  I  wouldn't  give 
five  cents  for  it." 

The  newsboy  laughed.     "It  shows  that  I  have 


134  BODGH  AND  READY;    OR, 

three  huudi-ed  dollars  in  the  bank,  which  they  will 
pay  me  whenever  I  want  it." 

*'That  is  nice,"  said  Rose.  "I  am  so  glad  you  are 
rich,  Rufie." 

"  Then  j'ou  have  heard  nothing  of  the  owner  of  the 
money,  Rufus  ?  "  said  Miss  Manning. 

"  No,  I  have  heard  nothing.  Mr.  O'Connor  says  1 
shall  be  right  in  keeping  the  money  now,  as  I  have 
tried  to  find  the  owner,  and  cannot." 

"  What  do  3^ou  propose  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  I  shall  keep  i{  in  the  bank  at  present,  until  1 
need  it.  Bat  there  is  one  thing  I  would  like  to  do, 
Miss  Manning." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  I  would  like  to  make  you  a  present,  —  a  dress,  or 
shawl,  or  whatever  you  need  most." 

"  Thank  you,  Rufus  ;  you  are  very  kind,"  said  the 
seamstress  ;  "  but  I  would  prefer  that  you  would  leave 
the  money  untouched.  Since  I  made  the  arrange- 
ment -with  you  about  Rose,  I  am  doing  much  better 
than  I  did  before,  and  I  feel  much  better,  because  I 
have  more  sustaining  food.  I  feel  now  as  if  I  could 
afford  to   take  a  little   time  to   sew  for  myself.     I 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       135 

bought  a  dress-pattern  yesterday,  and  I  shall  make 
it  up  next  week." 

"  But  I  should  like  very  much  to  make  you  a  pres- 
ent, Miss  Manning." 

*'  So  you  shall,  Rufus,  whenever  you  have  a  thou- 
sand dollars  laid  aside.  At  present  I  do  not  need 
anything,  and  I  would  rather  you  would  keep  your 
money." 

To  this  resolution  Miss  Manning  adhered,  in  spite 
of  the  newsboy's  urgent  persuasion.  She  knew  very 
well  that  three  hundred  dollars,  'though  it  seemed  a 
large  sum  to  him,  would  rapidly  melt  away  if  it  was 
once  broken  in  upon,  and  she  wished  it  to  be  kept  as 
a  "  nest-egg,"  and  an  encouragement  for  future  accu 
mulations. 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Rufus,  "I  want  to  celebrate 
my  good  luck,  and  I  want  you  to  help  me  do  it.  Let 
us  go  to-morrow  afternoon  to  Greenwood  Cemetery, 
r  think  Rose  will  like  it,  and  as  it  is  a  beautiful  place 
it  will  be  pleasant  for  us  all." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  seamstress,  "  I  will  agree  to 
that,  if  you  will  wait  till  I  have  finished  my  dress. 


136  ROUGH  AND   READY;   OHf 

I  think  I  can  have  it  done,  so  that  we  can   go  on 
Wednesday  afternoon.     Will  that  do  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  will  suit  me  very  well.  I  hope  it  will 
be  a  pleasant  day." 

"  If  it  is  not,  we  can  defer  it  to  the  next  day." 

It  will  need  to  be  explained  that  Rufus  had  already 
five  dollars  in  the  bank  previous  to  his  coming  into 
possession  of  the  contents  of  the  pocket-book.  That 
had  originally  contained  three  hundred  dollars,  but 
five  dollars  had  been  taken  out  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  advertising  in  the  "  Herald." 

When  Rose  was  informed  of  the  contemplated  excur- 
sion, she  was  filled  with  delight.  The  poor  child  had 
had  very  little  pleasure  or  variety,  and  the  excursion, 
brief  as  it  was,  she  anticipated  with  eager  enjoyment. 

The  day  opened  auspiciously.  The  early  morning 
hours  the  newsboy  devoted  to  his  business,  being  un- 
willing to  lose  a  day's  earnings.  At  eleven  o'clock 
he  came  to  Miss  Manning's  lodgings.  '^  Well,  I  am 
through  with  my  day's  work,"  he  said.  "  How  much 
do  you  think  I  have  earned?" 

"Seventy-five  cents?"  said  the  seamstress,  inquir 
ingly. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       137 

**  A  dollar  and  twenty  cents,"  he  said. 

*'  You  have  been  very  smart.  What  a  number  of 
papers  you  must  have  sold !  " 

"  I  didn't  make  it  all  that  way.  There  were  two 
boys  who  were  hard  up,  and  hadn't  any  blacking - 
brushes  ;  so  I  bought  them  some,  and  they  are  to  pay 
me  ten  cents  a  day,  each  of  them,  for  a  month,  then  I 
shall  let  them  keep  the  brushes." 

"  Do  the  boys  often  make  such  arrangements?" 

"  No,  they  generally  go  whacks.  The  boy  who  bor- 
rows agrees  to  pay  half  his  earnings  to  the  boy  that 
sets  him  up  in  business." 

"  That  is  rather  a  hard  bargain." 

"  Yes,  I  didn't  want  to  charge  so  much.    So  I  only  \ 
charged  ten  cents  a  day." 

"  That  will  pay  you  a  good  profit ;  but  how  do  you 
know  but  the  boys  will  keep  the  brushes,  and  won't 
pay  you  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  won't  do  that.  The/11  keep  their  prom- 
ises, or  nobody  would  help  'em  next  time  they  get 
hard  up." 

Miss  Maiming  had  prepared  an  early  dinner,  to 
which  they  all  sat  down.     This  was  soon  despatched, 


138  HOUGH  AND  ready;  Oli, 

and  they  set  out  together  for  the  South  Ferr^^,  from 
whioh  cars  ran  to  the  cemetery. 

They  reached  the  ferry  about  noon,  and  at  once 
crossed  over.  Rose  enjoj^ed  the  ride  upon  the  boat, 
for,  though  New  York  is  surrounded  by  ferries,  she 
had  hardly  ever  ridden  on  a  ferry-boat. 

"  I  wish  we  didn't  get  out  so  quick,"  she  said. 

"  Do  you  like  being  on  the  water,  Rosie?" 

"  Ever  so  much,"  replied  the  little  girl. 

"  Then  we  will  take  a  longer  excursion  some  day 
soon.  We  can  go  to  Staten  Island.  That  will  be 
six  miles  each  way." 

"  That  will  be  nice.     I  hope  we  can  go  soon." 

They  soon  reached  the  Brookl3'n  side,  and  disem- 
barked with  the  throng  of  fellow-passengers.  A  car 
was  waiting  the  boat's  arrival,  on  which  they  saw 
"  Greenwood  "  printed. 

*'  Jump  on  board  quick,"  said  Rough  and  Ready, 
"  or  3^ou  won't  get  seats." 

Miss  Manning  barely  got  a  seat.  She  took  Rose  in 
her  lap,  and  the  newsboy  stood  out  on  the  platform 
with  the  conductor.  The  ride  was  a  pleasant  one  to 
all  three,  but  no  incidents  happened  worth  noting. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       139 

Wlien  Rufus  settled  the  fare,  the  conductor  said  jo- 
cosely, *'  Your  wife  and  child,  I  suppose?" 

"  No,"  said  the  newsboy,  "  all  my  children  are 
grown  up  and  out  of  the  way.  They  don't  give  me 
any  trouble." 

"  That's  where  you're  lucky,"  said  the  conductor. 
"  It's  more  than  I  can  say," 
"  Have  you  a  family  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  wife  and  four  children,  and  pre- 
cious hard  work  I  find  it  to  support  them  on  my 
small  wages.    But  it's  no  use  asking  any  more." 

"  That's  my  sister,  the  little  girl  I  mean,"  said 
Rufus.  "  The  other  is  a  friend  who  looks  after  her. 
I  have  to  support  her ;  but  that's  only  one,  while  you 
have  five." 

"She  looks  like  a  nice  little  girl.  She  is  about 
the  size  of  my  oldest  girl." 

*'  She's  a  dear  little  sister,"  said  the  newsboy, 
warmly.    "  I  should  feel  very  lonely  without  her." 

He  little  thought  as  he  spoke  that  the  loneliness  tc? 
which  he  referred  was  speedily  to  come  upon  him. 
But  we  will  not  anticipate. 

They  got  out  at  the  entrance  of  the  cemetery,  aiid 


IdO  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

entered  the  grounds.  Greenwood  Cemetery,  ol 
wlii(3li  all  my  readers  have  probably  heard,  is  very 
extensive,  the  grounds  comprising  over  three  hun- 
dred acres.  It  is  situated  about  two  and  a  half  miles 
from  the  South  Ferry,  on  what  is  now  known  as  Gow- 
anus  Heights.  Its  elevated  position  enables  it  to 
command  charming  views  of  the  bay  and  harbor  of 
New  York ;  with  its  islands  and  forts,  the  twin  cities 
of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  the  New  Jersey  shore, 
the  long  lines  of  city  wharves,  with  their  forests  of 
masts,  and  an  extensive  view  of  the  ocean.  The  nu- 
merous and  beautiful  trees  crowning  the  elevations, 
the  costly  monuments,  the  winding  paths,  so  inter- 
secting each  other  as  almost  to  make  a  labjTinth, 
render  this  a  charming  spot,  and  death  assumes  a 
less  repulsive  aspect  amid  such  surroundings. 

"  How  beautiful  it  is  !  "  said  Miss  Manning,  gaz- 
ing about  her  thoughtfully.  "  I  have  never  been 
here  before." 

"  I  never  came  but  once,"  said  the  newsboy,  "  and 
that  was  a  good  while  ago." 

Little  Rose  was  charmed,  and  darted  first  into  one 
path,  then  into  another,  and  was  about  to  pluck  some 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       lil 

flowers,  until  she  was  told  that  this  was  against  the 
regulations, 

''  What  a  lot  of  dead  people  live  here !  "  she  said, 
as  from  a  little  height  they  saw  white  stones  and 
monuments  rising  on  every  side. 

"  She  has  used  the  right  word,  after  all,  Rufus," 
said  Miss  Manning  ;  "  for  death  is  only  the  introduc- 
tion to  another  life.  I  sometimes  think  that  those 
whose  bodies  lie  here  are  not  wholly  insensible  to  the 
beauty  b}^  which  they  are  surrounded." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  newsboy,  "I  never 
thought  much  about  it  till  mother  died.  I  wish  she 
had  been  buried  here.  I  think  it  would  be  a  comfort 
to  me.  Poor  mother !  she  had  a  hard  life ; "  and  he 
Bighed.     "  I  want  Rose  to  have  a  happier  one." 

"  Let  us  hope  she  will.  Have  you  heard  anjrthing 
of  Mr.  Martin  lately?" 

She  carefully  avoided  using  the  word  "  stepfather" 
for  she  had  observed  that  even  this  recognition  of  re- 
lationship was  distasteful  to  the  boy,  who  had  im- 
bibed a  bitter  prejudice  against  the  man  who  had 
wrecked  his  mother's  happiness,  and  undoubtedly 
abridged  her  life  by  several  years. 


142  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OJ?, 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  him  since  the  day  after  I 
took  Rose  away  from  Leonard  Street.  I  think  he 
cannot  be  in  the  city,  or  he  would  have  come  round 
to  where  I  was  selling  papers.  I  expected  he  would 
be  round  before  to  ask  me  for  some  money." 

"  What  do  3^ou  think  has  become  of  him?" 

"Maybe  he  has  gone  back  into  the  country.  I 
hope  he  has,  for  I  should  feel  safer  about  Rose." 

Here  the  conversation  closed  for  the  time.  They 
rambled  on  without  any  particular  aim,  wherever 
fancy  dictated.  They  came  upon  most  of  the  notable 
monuments,  including  that  of  the  sea-captain,  and 
that  of  Miss  Cauda,  the  young  heiress,  who,  dying  by 
a  violent  accident,  with  no  one  to  inherit  her  wealth, 
it  was  decided  that  it  should  all  be  expended  upon  a 
costly  monument,  which  has  ever  since  been  one  of 
the  chief  ornaments  of  the  cemetery. 

At  length  they  began  to  think  of  returning,  but  had 
fiome  difficulty  at  first  in  finding  their  way  to  the 
gate,  so  perplexing  is  the  maze  of  paths. 

"  I  don't  know  but  we  shall  have  to  stay  here  all 
night,"  said  Rufus.  "How  should  you  like  that, 
Rose?" 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   YOEK  NEWSBOYS,       143 

"  I  wouldu't  care,"  said  the  little  girl.  "  I  think 
the  grass  would  make  a  nice  soft  bed." 

But  to  this  necessity  they  were  not  reduced,  as  after 
A  while  they  emerged  into  a  broad  path  that  led  down 
to  the  gateway.  They  passed  through  it,  and  got  on 
board  a  horse-car. 

"I  think  we  will  go  to  Fulton  Ferry  this  time," 
said  Rough  and  Ecady.  "It  ^vill  give  us  a  little 
change." 

He  did  not  realize  to  what  misfortune  this  choice 
of  his  would  lead,  or  he  would  not  have  made  it ;  but 
we  cannot  foresee  what  our  most  trifling  decisions 
may  lead  to.  In  due  time  they  got  on  board  the  Ful-  \ 
ton  ferry-boat,  and  went  into  the  ladies*  cabin.  They  ^ 
didn't  see  a  man  who  followed  their  motions  with  an 
eager  gaze,  mingled  with  malice.  It  was  James  Mar- 
tin, who  saw  Rose  now  for  the  first  time  since  she 
was  taken  from  Leonard  Street  by  her  brother. 

"This  is  lucky !"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "  I  will 
find  out  where  she  lives,  and  then  it  will  be  a  pretty 
tight  cage,  or  I  shall  be  able  to  secure  the  bird." 

But  there  was  danger  that,  if  he  followed  in  person, 
the  newsboy  might   look  back,  and,  perceiving  his 


144  ROUGH  AND   READY;    Olty 

design,  foil  it  by  going  in  the  wrong  direction.  He 
quickly  decided  what  to  do.  There  was  a  half-grown 
boy  near  by  whom  he  knew  slightly. 

"  Here,  boy,"  said  he,  "  do  you  want  to  earn  half  a 
IXT.  dollar?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Then  you  must  follow  some  people  whom  I  will 
point  out  to  you,  and  find  out  where  they  live.  Don't 
let  them  see  that  they  are  followed." 

«  All  right,  sir." 

When  Rough  and  Ready  got  out  of  the  boat  with 
his  two  companions,  they  were  followed  at  a  little  ais- 
tance  by  this  boy ;  but  of  this  they  were  quite  uijk 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       145 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


ROSE   AND    HER  ENEMY. 


James  Martin  waited  at  the  Fulton  Ferry  for  the 
return  of  his  emissar}'.  But  he  had  to  wait  a  long 
time,  as  the  lodgings  occupied  by  Miss  Manning  and 
little  Rose  were  rather  more  than  a  mile  distant,  and 
their  progress  was  somewhat  delayed  by  their  stop- 
ping to  listen  to  a  little  Italian  boy  and  his  sister, 
who  were  singing  near  the  head  of  Fulton  Street. 
Then  there  was  a  difficulty  in  crossing  Broadway,  on 
account  of  the  stream  of  vehicles.  Owing  to  these 
causes,  it  was  an  hour  and  a  quarter  before  the  mes- 
senger returned.  James  Martin  had  about  made  up 
his  mind  that  the  boy  had  given  up  the  quest,  and 
was  starting  away  in  vexation  and  disappointment, 
just  as  he  appeared  in  sight. 

"  Well,  you've  been  gone  long  enough,"  he  said, 

roughly.     "  Why  didn't  you  stay  all  night?" 

''  I  came  as  quick  as  I  could.     It's  a  long  ways," 
10 


1 46  ROUGH  AXD  ready;  or^ 

Baid   the  boy.     "Then  they  stopped  two  or  three 
times." 

*'  Did  you  find  out  where  they  lived  ?  "  asked  Mar- 
tin, eagerly. 

*  I'es,  I  followed  'em  clear  to  the  door." 

*  Where  is  it?" 

"  "Where's  the  half  dollar  j^ou  promised  me?"  said 
the  bcT ,  with  commendable  caution, 

"  V\\  give  it  to  you  when  you've  told  me  where  it 
is.*' 

"  I  wan^  it  first." 

"  D(?  jTou  think  I  won't  give  it  to  you?"  demanded 
Martib,  angrily. 

"  >Ia3^be  you  ^ill,  and  maybe  you  won't.    I  never 
sav  you  before.'* 

"  I'll  give  5^ou  tin  money  as  soon  as  you  tell  me." 

"It's  No.  125  Centre  Street." 

"  All  right,  my  lad,  J'll  pay  you  when  I  get  ready 
as  long  as  you've  made  snch  a  fuss  about  it." 

"  Well,"  said  the  boy,  coolly,  "  I  guess  you  wod*' 
make  any  more  out  of  it  tha^  T  do." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Martin  8V  sp*  \')U8l7' 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       147 

"  Because  I've  told  you  the  wrong  street  and  num- 
ber." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"  If  3^ou  don't  believe  it,  go  to  125  Centre  Street^ 
and  see  if  you  can  find  them," 

"You're  a  young  rascal,"  said  Martin,  angry  at 
being  foiled. 

"  Maybe  I  am  ;  but  I  don't  mean  to  be  cheated  by 
you  or  any  other  man." 

"  I've  a  good  mind  to  give  you  a  thrashing." 

"  You'd  better  if  you  want  to  sleep  in  the  station- 
house  to-night,"  returned  the  boy,  not  in  the  least 
alarmed, 

"  So  you  were  going  to  tell  me  the  wrong  place, 
and  take  my  money,  were  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  if  you'd  given  me  the  money,  I'd  have  told 
you  right  afterwards." 

"Well,  here's  3'our  mone}^,"  said  Martin,  taking 
out  fifty  cents. 

"  I  want  sevent3^-five  cents  now." 

"What  for?" 

"  Because  you  tried  to  cheat  me." 

"  Then  I  won't  give  3'ou  anything." 


148  ROVGH  AND   READY;    OB, 

''  All  right.  Then  3^ou  must  find  out  for  yourself 
where  they  live." 

"  Come,  boy,  don't  be  foolish.  Here's  your  fifty 
cents." 

*'  Keep  it  yourself  till  there's  twenty-five  more." 

Further  effort  proving  unavailing,  James  Martin 
recalled  the  boy,  who  had  already  started  to  go,  ana 
very  unwillingly  complied  with  his  demand. 

"  Well,"  said  the  boy,  depositing  the  money  care- 
fully in  his  pocket,  *'  now  I'll  tell  you.  It's  No.  — 
Franklin  Street,  near  the  North  River." 

"Are  you  telling  me  the  truth?"  asked  Martin, 
suspiciously,  for  he  would  never  have  thought  of  this 
quarter. 

"  Yes,  it's  the  truth.  If  you  don't  believe  it,  you 
can  go  and  see  for  yourself." 

*'  Franklin  Street !  "  repeated  Martin  to  himself. 
*' Perhaps  it's  true.  The  boy's  a  deep  one.  He 
thought  I  wouldn't  find  him  out  there.  Perhaps  he'll 
find  himself  mistaken.  I'd  like  to  see  him  when  he 
finds  the  girl  gone." 

James  Martin,  not  relying  wholly  on  the  boy's 
iiformation,    determined   to   go  round  and   find  the 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       1-19 

place  indicated,  and  see  if  he  couldn't  ascertain 
definitely  whether  it  was  correct.  If  so,  he  would 
lay  his  plans  accordingly. 

Following  up  this  determination,  twenty  minutes 
later  found  him  standing  in  front  of  the  house.  But 
he  could  not,  without  inquiring,  obtain  the  desired 
information,  and  this  he  hardly  liked  to  do,  lest  it 
should  be  reported  to  Rough  and  Ready,  and  so  put 
him  on  his  guard. 

He  stood  undecided  what  to  do ;  but  chance  favored 
him.  While  he  was  considering,  he  saw  the  newsboy 
himself  come  up  the  street  and  enter  the  house,  with  a 
loaf  of  bread  under  his  arm.  He  was  just  returning 
from  a  bakery  near  b}^,  and  the  bread  was  to  form  a 
part  of  the  supper  to  which  all  three  brought  excel- 
lent appetites. 

James  Martin  crouched  back  in  a  door-wa}'",  in  order 

to  escape  observation,  at  the  same  time  pulling  his 

hat  over  his  eyes.     The  precaution,  however,  proved 

unnecessary,  for  the  newsboy  never  looked  across  the 

street,   and    was    far    enough   from    suspecting   the 

danger  that  menaced  the  little  household.     He  was 

thinking  rather  of  the  nice  supper,  —  a  little  better 
10 


150  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

than  usual,  —  which  was  being  prepared  in  honor  of 
the  holiday,  and  thinking  how  much  more  pleasantly 
they  were  situated  than  in  the  room  at  Leonard 
Street,  on  the  other  side  of  the  city. 

"  It's  ail  right ! "  muttered  Martin  to  himself  with 
Batisfaction.  "  The  boy  told  me  the  truth,  and  I 
don't  mind  the  seventy-five  cents,  as  long  as  I've 
found  out  where  thc}^  live.  They'll  find  I  aint  so 
easily  fooled  as  I  might  be.  A  day  or  two'll  tell  the 
story." 

He  had  learned  all  he  wished  to  know,  and  walked 
back  to  Broadway,  where  it  is  unnecessary  to  follow 
him. 

The  next  day  Rose  and  Miss  Manning  were  sitting 
together  in  the  neat  little  room  to  which  both  had 
become  attached.  Miss  Manning  was  sewing  as 
usual.  Rose  was  sitting  on  a  stool  at  her  feet,  with 
her  eyes  fixed  on  a  small  reading-book. 

"  I  think  I  know  my  lesson,  Miss  Manning,"  she 
said  at  last,  raising  her  e3'es. 

"  Very  well,  Rose,  I  am  read}'  to  hear  you.*' 

The   seamstress    laid  down  her  work,   and   Rose, 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS         *.5j 

Btaitding  by  her  side,  read  the  lesson  to  her  without  i* 

mistake. 

"Didn't  I  say  it  well,  Miss  Manning?"  she  asked, 
proudly. 

"  Yes,  Rose,  you  are  doing  famously ;  I  am  quite 
proud  of  my  pupil." 

"  I  shall  soon  get  through  my  book.  Then  Rufie 
will  have  to  buy  me  another." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  be  very  glad  to  do  so, 
Rose.  He  is  very  anxious  that  you  should  get  along 
fast." 

"  Isn't  he  a  good  boy,  Miss  Manning?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  a  very  kind,  considerate  brother." 

"  I  like  it  so  much  better  than  when  I  lived  with  — 
Mr.  Martin.  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever  see  him 
again,  Miss  Manning?" 

*'  I  cannot  tell,  Rose.  I  hope  not ;  for  I  do  not 
think  you  would  be  happ}^  with  him.'* 

"  He  used  to  drink  rum,  and  it  made  him  so  cross 
I  used  to  be  afraid  of  him." 

"  Rum  ruins  a  great  many  people,  Rose." 

"  I  don't  see  how  anybody  can  like  it,"  said  the 
little    girl.      "Once    fath  —  I    mean    Mr.    Martin, 


i52  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

brought  some  home  in  a  bottle,  and  when  he  was 
out,  I  thought  I  would  just  taste  a  little  —  " 

"  O  Rose  !  " 

**  Onl}^  a  very  little,  a  tiny  spoonful,  to  see  how  it 
tasted.  But  it  was  so  strong,  and  tasted  so  bad,  I 
could  not  swallow  it.  I  don't  see  how  anybody  can 
like  it." 

"Yes,  Rose,  it  does  seem  strange.  But  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  to  go  on  a  little  errand  for  me." 

"  I  should  like  to  go,"  said  the  little  girl,  jumping 
up.     "  What  is  it.  Miss  Manning?  " 

"  I  need  a  spool  of  cotton.  You  know  the  little 
store  round  the  corner," 

"Lindsay's?" 

"  Yes.  I  should  like  to  have  you  go  there  and  buy 
me  another  spool,  the  same  number  as  this.  I  will 
give  3^ou  the  spool,  so  that  3"0u  can  show  it  to  the 
man  behind  the  counter." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Manning." 

"  Here  are  ten  cents.  You  can  bring  me  back  the 
change.  .  If  you  want  to,  you  can  stop  at  the  candy- 
shop,  and  buy  a  stick  of  caud3"  out  of  what  is 
left." 


LIFE  AMONG   THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       153 

"  Oh,  thank  j^ou,  Miss  Manning.  Shan't  I  buy 
you  a  stick  too?" 

"  No,  Rose,  I  have  got  over  my  love  for  candy." 

"Didn't  you  use  to  like  it  when  you  were  a  little 
girl?" 

"  Yes,  Rose ;  but  now  make  haste,  for  I  have  only 
a  needleful  of  cotton  left,  and  I  want  to  finish  this 
work  to-night,  if  I  can." 

Rose  put  on  her  bonnet,  and  went  downstairs, 
proud  of  the  commission  with  which  she  was  in- 
trusted. She  was  actually  going  shopping,  just  as 
grown  women  do,  and  this  gave  her  a  feeling  of  dig- 
nity which  made  her  carry  her  little  form  with  unu- 
sual erectness.  She  little  suspected  that  the  danger 
which  her  brother  and  herself  most  dreaded  lay  in 
wait  for  her  in  the  street  beneath ;  that  she  was 
about  to  be  torn  from  the  pleasant  home  which  she 
had  begun  to  enjoy  so  much.  Nor  did  Miss  Man- 
ning suspect  to  what  peril  she  was  exposing  her 
young  charge,  and  what  grief  she  was  unconsciously 
laying  up  for  Rufus  and  herself. 

James  Martin  was  lurking  near  the  house,  and  nad 
been  loungrino:  about  there  for  three  or  four  hours 


154  ROUGH  AND   HEADY ;    OH, 

He  had  notified  his  employer  in  the  morning  that  he 
had  business  in  New  York,  and  should  be  unable  to 
work  that  day.  He  had  also  given  notice  to  his 
landlady  that  he  expected  to  bring  his  daughter 
home  that  night,  and  he  wanted  her  to  prepare 
accommodations  for  her. 

With  the  design  of  procuring  her  he  had  come 
over  and  repaired  to  Franklin  Street ;  but  Rose  and 
Miss  Manning  seldom  stirred  out  in  the  morning, 
and  he  had  watched  and  waited  in  vain  until  now. 
He  had  made  several  visits  to  a  neighBoring  groggery 
and  indulged  in  potations  which  helped  to  while  away 
the  time,  but  he  was  getting  very  impatient,  when,  to 
his  great  joy,  he  saw  Rose  come  out  upon  the  side- 
walk, and  alone,  which  was  better  still.  He  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  claim  her,  even  if  she  were 
accompanied  by  Miss  Manning ;  but  this  might  excite 
a  disturbance,  and  he  knew  there  would  be  danger 
of  interference  from  the  police,  which  he  did  not 
court.  So  he  considered  it  a  remarkable  stroke  of 
good  luck  when  he  saw  Rose  coming  out  alone. 

"  There  she  is,"  he  said  to  himself.      "  I'll  soon 
nab  her.     But  I  wonder  where  she  is  going." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       1&5 

Hft  might  have  seized  her  at  once,  but  he  thought 
it  best  not  to  do  so.  Very  likely  there  might  be 
somebody  who  might  witness  the  seizure,  who  would 
know  that  she  was  living  with  Miss  Manning,  and 
might  be  inclined  to  interfere.  He  thought  it  w^ould 
be  better  to  follow  her  a  little  distance,  and  effect  the 
capture  in  another  locality. 

Rose  pursued  her  way,  unconscious  of  the  danger 
that  menaced  her.  She  entered  the  store ,  made  her 
purchase,  and  it  wasn't  till  she  had  gone  a  little 
away  from  the  store  that  she  felt  a  heavy  hand  upon 
her  shoulder,  and,  looking  round,  to  her  indescribable 
dismay  and  terror,  recognized  her  stepfather. 


156  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 


CHAPTEll    XIV, 


ROSE   KIDNAPPED. 


*'  So  Tve  found  you  at  last,"  said  James  Martin, 
looking  grimly  at  Rose,  bending  over  so  that  the 
fumes  of  his  breath,  tainted  with  liquor,  seemed  to 
Bcorch  her  innocent  cheek. 

"Let  me  go,"  said  Rose,  terrified  and  ready  to 
cry. 

"  Let  you  go ! "  repeated  Martin,  with  a  sneer. 
"  Is  that  all  the  welcome  you've  got  for  me,  after  I've 
taken  the  pains  to  come  clear  over  from  Brooklyn 
to  find  3"ou  ?  No,  I  can't  let  3- ou  go  ;  I'm  your  father, 
and  you  must  go  with  me." 

"  I  can't,  indeed  I  can't,"  said  Rose,  in  distress 
"I  want  to  stay  with  Rufie  and  Miss  Manning." 

"I  can't  allow  it.  I'm  your  father,  and  I'm 
responsible  for  you.  Your  brother  aint  fit  to  have 
charge  of  you.     Come  along." 


IjIFE   among    the   new   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       157 

He  seized  her  by  the  shoulder,  and  bega,n  to  push 
lier  along. 

''I  don't  want  to  go,"  said  Rose,  crying.  "I 
don't  want  to  leave  Rufie." 

"I  don't  care  what  you  want,"  said  Martin, 
roughly.  "  You've  got  to  come  with  me,  anyhow. 
As  for  your  brother,  I  don't  want  him.  He'd  be  try- 
ing to  kidnap  you  again.  I  might  have  put  him  in 
prison  for  it ;  but  I'll  let  him  go  this  time,  if  you 
don't  make  any  fuss." 

''^What  is  the  matter?"  asked  a  policeman,  who 
came  up  as  Rose  was  struggling  weakly  in  the  grasp 
of  her  stepfather.  "  What  are  you  pulling  along 
the  little  girl  for?" 

"  Because  she  won't  come  without,"  said  Martin. 
"  She  ran  away  from  home  with  her  brother  a  few 
weeks  ago,  and  I've  just  found  her." 

"  Is  she  your  child  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Is  that  truer"  asked  the  policeman,  not  partic- 
ularly prepossessed  in  Martin's  favor  by  his  personal 
appearance,  his  face  being  unusually  inflamed  by  hia 


158  ROUGH  AND  READl ;    OR, 

morning    potations.      His   question   was   of   course 
directed  to  Rose. 

"  No,  I  aint  bis  child  now,"  said  Rose.  "  Rufie  has 
the  care  of  me." 

*' And  who  is  Rufie?" 

"He  is  ray  brother." 

"  He's  a  young  rascal,"  said  Martin,  "  up  to  all 
sorts  of  mischief.  He'll  lie  and  steal,  and  anything 
else  that's  bad.  He  aint  fit  to  have  charge  of 
Rose." 

"It  isn't  true,"  said  the  little  girl,  indignantly 
"  He  doesn't  lie  nor  steal.  He's  the  best  boy  that 
ever  lived." 

"  I  haven't  anything  to  do  with  that,"  said  the 
policeman.     "The  question  is,  is  this  your  father?" 

"  He  was  mother's  husband,"  said  Rose,  reluc- 
tantly. 

*'  Then  he  is  j^our  stepfLither." 

"  Don't  let  him.  take  me  away,"  said  Rose,  im- 
ploringly. 

"  If  he's  j^our  stepfather,  I  can't  stop  him.  But, 
hark  you,  my  man,  I  advise  you  to  be  kind  to  the 
little  girl.     If  you  are  not,  1  hope  slie'U  run   away 


LIFE   A  MONO    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       169 

from  you.  You  look  as  if  you'd  been  drinking  pretty 
hard  this  morning." 

"  It*s  the  trouble  I've  had  about  her  that  made  mc 
drink,"  said  Martin,  apologetically.  "  I  was  afraid 
she  wasn't  taken  good  care  of.  Come  along  now, 
IBose.    He   says  you  must  go." 

"Let  me  go  and  speak  to  Miss  Manning  first," 
entreated  Rose.  "  I've  got  a  spool  of  cotton  Tve 
just  bought  for  her." 

"  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  that,"  said  Martin.  "  I've 
looked  for  you  long  enough,  and  now  I've  got  you  1 
mean  to  hold  on  to  you." 

"  But  Miss  Manning  won't  know  where  I  am," 
pleaded  Rose. 

"  It's  none  of  her  business  where  you  are.  She 
aint  no  relation  of  yours." 

"  But  she's  been  very  kind  to  me." 

"  She  was  kind  enough  to  keep  you  away  from  me , 
fihe  hasn't  anything  to  do  with  you,  and  I  don't  mean 
she  shall  ever  see  you  again." 

Poor  Rose  !  the  thought  that  she  was  to  be  forevei 
separated  from  her  kind  friend,  Miss  Manning,  smote 


ICO  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

her  with  a  sharp  sorrow,  and  she  began  to  cry  bit« 
terly. 

"  Stop  your  whimpering,"  said  Martin,  roughly. 
"  or  I'll  give  j^ou  something  to  cry  about." 

But,  even  with  this  threat  hanging  over  her.  Rose 
could  not  check  the  flow  of  her  tears.  Those  persons 
whom  they  met  looked  with  sympathy  at  the  pretty 
little  girl,  who  was  roughly  pulled  along  by  the  red- 
faced,  rough-looking  man ;  and  more  than  one  would 
have  been  glad  to  interfere  if  he  had  felt  authorized 
to  do  so. 

James  Martin  did  not  relish  the  public  attention 
drawn  to  them  by  Rose*s  tears,  for  he  knew  instinc- 
tivel}^  that  the  sympathy  would  be  with  her,  and  not 
with  himself.  As  soon  as  possible  he  got  the  child 
on  board  a  horse-car  bound  for  the  South  Ferry. 
•  This  was  something  of  an  improvement,  for  he  was 
no  longer  obliged  to  drag  her  along.  But  even  in  the 
cars  her  tears  continued  to  flow. 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  little  girl?"  asked 
a  kind,  motherly -looking  woman,  who  had  a  daughter 
at   home   about   Rose's    age,  and  whose   sympathies 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK   NEWSBOYS.        161 

were  therefore  more  readily  excited  by  the  appear- 
ance of  distress  in  the  child's  face. 

"  She's  been  behaving  badly,  ma'am,"  said  Martin. 

'*  She  doesn't  look  like  a  bad  child,"  said  the  good 
woman,  kindly, 

*'You  can't  tell  by  her  looks,'*  said  Martin. 
"  Maybe  you'd  think,  to  look  at  her,  that  she  was  one 
of  the  best  children  out ;  but  she's  very  troublesome." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  that.  You  should  try  to  be 
good,  my  dear,"  said  the  woman,  gently. 

Rose  didn't  repl}",  but  continued  to  shed  tears. 

"  She's  got  a  brother  that's  a  regular  bad  one," 
continued  Mr.  Martin.  "  He's  a  little  scamp,  if  there 
ever  was  one.  Would  you  believe  it,  ma'am,  he  in- 
duced his  sister  to  run  away  from  home  some  weeks 
ago,  and  ever  since  I've  been  hunting  all  around  to 
find  her?" 

"Is  it  possible?"  exclaimed  the  other,  interested 
^'  Where  did  you  find  her,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
ask?" 

"In  a  low  place,  in  the  western  part  of  the  city,** 

said  Mr.  Martin.     "  It  wasn't  a  fit  place  for  a  child 

like  her.     Her  brother  carried  her  away  from  a  good 
11 


162  BOUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

» 

home,  just  out  of  spite,  because  he  got  angry  with 
me." 

"It  must  have  made  you  feel  very  anxious.** 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  pathetically.  "  It  wor- 
ried me  so  I  couldn't  sleep  nights.  I've  been  hunting 
night  and  da}'  for  her  ever  since,  but  it's  only  to-day 
that  I  got  track  of  her.  She's  crj-ing  now  because 
she  didn't  want  to  leave  the  woman  her  brother 
placed  her  with." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  it.  My  dear,  you  will  be  bet- 
ter off  at  home  than  among  strangers.  Don't  you 
think  you  will  ?  " 

"  No,  I  slian't,"  said  Rose.  "  Miss  Manning  was  a 
good  woman,  and  was  very  kind  to  me." 

"  She  isn't  old  enough  to  judge,"  said  Martin, 
shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"No,  of  course  not.     Where  do  you  live?" 

"  In  Brooklyn." 

"  Well,  good-by  ;  I  get  out  here." 

"  Good-b}',  ma'am.  I  hope  3'ou  won't  have  so 
much  trouble  with  your  children  as  I  have." 

"  I  am  sure  your  little  girl  will  be  better  when  she 
gets  home." 


LTFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOIS.       163 

*   {  hope  so,  ma*am." 

Rv  66  did  not  speak.  She  was  too  much  distressed, 
and,  child  as  she  was,  she  had  an  instinctive  feeling 
that  her  stepfather  was  false  and  hypocritical,  and 
she  did  not  feel  spirit  enough  to  contradict  his  asser- 
tions about  herself  and  Rufus. 

At  length  they  reached  the  ferry,  and  embarked  on 
the  ferry-boat. 

Rose  no  longer  tried  to  get  away.  In  the  first, 
place,  she  was  now  so  far  away  from  home  that  she 
would  not  have  known  her  way  back.  Besides,  she 
saw  that  Mr.  Martin  was  determined  to  carry  her 
with  him,  and  that  resistance  would  be  quite  useless , 
so  in  silent  misery  she.,  submitted  herself  to  what  il 
seemed  impossible  to  escape. 

They  got  into  the  cars  on  the  other  side,  and  the 
trip  passed  without  incident. 

"  We  get  out  here,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  when  they 
had  been  riding  about  half  an  hour. 

Rose  meekly  obeyed  his  summons,  and  followed 
him  out  of  the  car. 

''  Now,  young  lady,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  sternly,  "I 


164  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OJi, 

am  going  to  give  3'ou  a  pi  see  of  advice.      Are  you 
listening?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose,  dispiritedly. 

"  Then  j^ou  had  better  give  up  snivelling  at  once 
It  aint  going  to  do  you  any  good.  Maybe,  if  you 
behave  well,  I'll  let  3'our  brother  see  you  after  a 
while,  but  if  you  kick  up  a  fuss  you'll  never  see  him 
again  in  the  vrorld.     Do  you  understand?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  hope  you  do.  Anyway,  you'd  better.  I  live 
over  here  now.  I've  took  board  for  3^ou  and  myself 
in  the  house  of  a  woman  that's  got  a  girl  about  as 
big  as  you.  If  j^ou  aint  foolish  j^ou'll  have  a  good 
time  playing  with  her." 

"  I  want  to  see  Rufie,"  moaned  Rose. 

"  Well,  you  can't,  and  the  sooner  you  make  up 
your  mind  to  that  the  better.     Here  we  are." 

He  opened  the  front  door  of  the  shabb}'  boarduig 
house,  and  said  to  the  servant  whom  he  met  in  tliQ 
entry,  "Where's  Mrs.  Waters?" 

"  I'll  call  her  directly,  if  you'd  like  to  see  her  " 

*'  Yes,  I  want  to  see  her." 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       165 

Mrs.  Waters  shortly  appeared,  her  face  red  with 
heat,  from  the  kitchen. 

"  I've  brought  my  little  girl  along,  as  I  told  you,'* 
said  Martin. 

"So  this  is  your  little  girl,  is  it?  She's  a  nice 
child,"  said  Mrs.  Waters,  rather  surprised  to  find 
that  a  man  of  Mr.  Martin's  unpromising  exterior  had 
BO  attractive  a  child. 

"  No,  she  isn't,"  said  Martin,  shaking  his  head. 
"She's  very  badly  behaved.  I've  let  her  stay  in 
New  York  with  some  relations,  and  she  didn't  want 
to  come  back  and  see  father.  She's  been  making  a 
great  fuss  about  it." 

"  She'll  feel  better  to-morrow,"  said  Mrs.  Waters. 
"How  old  is  she?" 

"  Seven  years  old." 

"  Just  the  age  of  my  Fanny." 

"  You  said  you  could  let  her  occupy  the  same  bed 
with  your  little  girl." 

"Yes,  they  can  sleep  together.  Fanny  will  like 
to  have  a  girl  of  her  own  age  to  play  with.  Wait  a 
minute,  —  I'll  call  her." 

Fanny  Waters  was  a  short,  dumpy  little  girl,  ol 


166  ROUGH  AND  READY;   OR^ 

extreme  plainness.  Eose  looked  at  her,  but  dIdnU 
appear  to  feel  much  attracted. 

''  You  can  go  out  into  the  back  j^ard  together  and 
play,"  said  Mrs.  Waters  ;  "  only  mind  and  don't  get 
into  any  mischief." 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  calling  Rose 
aside,  "  I  want  to  speak  to  her  a  minute.  If,"  he 
continued,  addressing  the  child,  "  you  try  to  run 
away,  I'll  go  over  to  New  York,  and  shoot  your 
brother  through  the  head  with  a  pistol.  So  mind 
what  you're  about." 

Rose  listened  in  silent  terror,  for  she  thought  her 
stepfather  might  reall}'  do  as  he  threatened,  and  it 
had  a  greater  effect  upon  her  than  if  he  had  threat- 
ened harm  to  herself. 

James  Martin  witnessed  with  satisfaction  the 
effect  produced  in  the  pale,  scared  face  of  the  child, 
and  he  said  to  himself,  "I  don't  think  she'll  rui 
away  in  a  hurry." 


I.IFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       167 


CHAPTER   XY. 

INTRODUCES   A   DISTINGUISHED   PERSONAGE. 

"  '  Times/  '  Herald/  '  Tribune/  '  World ' !  "  cried 
Eough  and  Eeady,  from  his  old  place  in  front  of  the 
"  Times  "  building.  "  All  the  news  that's  going,  for 
onl}^  four  cents !  That's  cheap  enough,  isn't  it  ? 
Have    a  pa^^er,   sir?" 

*'  I  don't  know.  Is  there  any  particular  news  this 
morning  ?  "  asked  the  individual  addressed. 

''  Yes,  sir,  lots  of  it.  You  will  find  ten  cents'  worth 
in  every  one  of  the  papers,  which  will  give  j^ou  a 
clear  profit  of  six  cents  on  your  investment.  Which 
will  3^ou  have?" 

"  Let  me  look  at  a  paper  a  minute,  and  I'll  see." 

"  I  don't  do  business  that  wa}^"  said  the  newsboy ; 
"  not  since  one  morning  when  I  let  an  old  gentleman 
look  at  a  paper  just  for  a  minute.  He  read  it  for 
half  an  hour,  and  then  returned  it,  savin'  there 
wasn't  much  in  it,  and  he  guessed  he  wouldn't  buy." 


168  ItOVGH  AND   ready;    ORy 

"  Well,  here's  3'our  mone3\  Give  me  the  *  Times,' " 
said  the  other. 

"  Here  you  are  ! "  said  the  newsboy,  pocketing  the 
money,  and  placing  a  "Times"  in  the  hand  of  the 
purchaser. 

"  Give  me  the  '  Herald,'"  said  another. 

Unfolding  the  paper,  he  glanced  his  eye  over  it, 
and  said,  in  evident  disappointment,  "  I  heard  there 
was  a  railroad  accident  somewhere,  with  about  fifty 
persons  killed  and  wounded  ;  but  I  don't  see  it  an}^- 
where." 

"  I'm  sorry  you're  disappointed,"  said  the  news- 
boy. "It's  soothin'  to  the  feelings  to  read  about  a 
smash-up,  with  lots  of  persons  killed  and  wounded. 
Just  come  along  to-morrow  mornin',  and  I  guess 
you'll  find  what  you  want." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so?  "  asked  the  customer, 
suspiciously. 

"  If  you  won't  mention  it,"  said  Rough  and  Ready, 
lowering  his  voice,  "  I  don't  mind  telling  3'ou  that 
the  '  Herald '  has  sent  up  a  reporter  to  put  a  big  rock 
on  the  Erie  Road,  and  throw  oflf  the  afternoon  train 
As  he  will  be  on  the  spot,  he  can  give  a  full  report. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       1G9 

exclusive    for     the     '  Herald  M      Then     again,    the 

*  Times*  and  '  Tribune  '  are  arrangin'  to  get  up  some 

*  horrid  murders.*  Maj^be  tliey'Il  have  'em  in  to- 
morrow's paper.  You'd  better  come  round,  and  buy 
'em  all.  I'll  make  a  discount  to  a  wholesale 
customer.** 

"It*s  my  belief  that  you're  a  humbug,*'  said  the 
disappointed  customer. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Rough  and  Ready ;  "I've 
been  takin'  lessons  of  Barnum,  only  I  haven't  made 
60  much  money  yet.'* 

The  next  customer  asked  for  the  "  Tribune.** 

"  Here  it  is,  sir." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  Mr.  Greeley  ?  '*  he  inqu  red. 
"  I  live  in  the  country,  and  I  have  often  thought  T 
should  like  to  see  so  intrepid  a  champion  of  the 
people's  rights." 

"  There  he  is  now,"  said  the  newsboy,  pointing  to 
a  somewhat  portly  man,  who  had  just  got  out  of  a 
horse-car. 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  **  ejaculated  the  country  reader 
of  the  "  Tribune.*'     "  I  should  like  to  go  and  shuk« 


170  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

hands  with  him,  but  he  might  take  it  as  too  great  a 
libert}'.     I  didn't  know  he  was  so  stout." 

*' Go  ahead!"  said  the  newsboy.  *' He  won'' 
mind.     He's  used  to  it." 

"  I  think  I  will.  I  should  like  to  tell  the  folks  ai 
home  that  I  had  shaken  hands  with  Horace  Greeley.' 

Now  it  happened  that  the  personage  who  had  been 
pointed  out  as  Horace  Greeley  was  really  no  other 
than  Mr.  Barnum  himself,  the  illustrious  showman. 
The  newsboy  was  well  aware  of  this,  and  was  led  to 
make  the  statement  b}-  his  desire  to  see  a  little  fun. 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  justify  him  in  this  deception  ; 
but  I  have  undertaken  to  set  Rough  and  Ready  before 
the  reader  as  he  was,  not  as  he  ought  to  be,  and, 
though  a  good  boy  in  the  main,  he  was  not  without 
faults. 

Mr.  Greeley's  admirer  walked  up  to  Mr.  Barnum, 
and  grasped  his  hand  cordially. 

'*  Sir,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  j^ou  will  excuse  the  libert}^ 
I  am  taking,  but  I  couldn't  help  addressing  you." 

"  I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Barnum, 
courteously^     "  Perhaps  I  have  met  you  before,  but  1 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       171 

meet  so  many  people  that  I  cannot  always  remember 
faces." 

"No,  sir,  we  have  never  met  before,  but  5'our  fame 
has  reached  our  village ;  indeed,  I  may  say,  it  has 
spread  all  over  the  country,  and  when  I  was  told  who 
you  were  I  could  not  help  coming  up  and  telling  you 
how  much  we  all  sympathize  with  you  in  your  philan- 
thropic efforts." 

Mr.  Barnum  looked  somewhat  perplexed.  He  was 
not  altogether  certain  whether  his  temperance  lec- 
tures were  referred  to,  or  his  career  as  manager  of 
the  Museum.  He  answered  therefore  rather  vaguely, 
*'  I  try  to  do  something  to  make  the  world  happier. 
I  am  very  glad  my  efforts  are  appreciated." 

'*  Yes,  sir,  you  may  be  certain  they  are  appreciated 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  laud,"  said 
the  other,  fervently. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Barnum ;  '^  but  I  am 
afraid  you  will  not  get  all  to  agree  with  you.  There 
are  some  who  do  not  view  me  so  favorably." 

"  Of  course.  Such  is  always  the  fate  of  the  philan- 
thropist. There  are  some,  no  doubt,  who  decr}^  you, 
but  their  calumnies  are  unavailable.     '  Truth  cviisu'^d 


172  BOUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

to  earth  will  rise  again.'  I  need  not  contiune  the 
quotation." 

"  You  are  certainl}- Yer3^  complimentar\',  JMr. ; 

perhaps  3'ou  will  oblige  me  with  3'our  name." 

"  Nathan  Bedloe.  I  keep  a  seminar}'  in  the 
countr3^  I  have  read  the  '  Tribune '  for  years,  Mr. 
Greeley,  and  have  found  in  your  luminous  editorials 
the  most  satisfactory  exposition  of  the  principles 
which  I  profess." 

Mr.  Barnum's  eyes  distended  with  astonishment  as 
he  caught  the  name  Greele}',  and  his  facial  muscles 
twitched  a  little. 

*'  How  did  3'ou  know  me?  "  he  asked. 

"  That  newsboy  pointed  you  out  to  me,"  said  the 
other,  indicating  Rough  and  Ready,  who  was  watch- 
ing with  interest  the  conversation  between  the  two. 

"Yes,  the  newsbo3'S  know  me,"  said  Barnum. 
"So  you  like  the  '  Tribune'?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  is  an  admirable  paper.  I  would  as 
soon  do  without  m}'  dinner  as  without  it." 

"  I  am  very  glad  3'ou  like  it,"  said  Barnum  ;  "  but 
I  fear  my  own  contributions  to  it  (referring  to  the 
advertisement  of  the  Museum)  are  not  worthy  of  such 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        173 

kind  compliments.  I  must  bid  you  good-morning,  at 
present,  as  my  engagements  are  numerous." 

*'  I  can  easily  believe  it,  Mr.  Greeley.  Good-by^ 
sir.  Thank  you  for  your  kind  reception  of  an  humble 
stranger." 

There  was  another  shaking  of  hands,  and  Mr. 
Bedloe  departed  under  the  firm  conviction  that  he 
had  .seen  and  talked  with  Horace  Greeley. 

Three  minutes  later.  Rough  and  Ready  felt  a  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  Lifting  up  his  eyes,  he  recog- 
nized Mr.  Barnum. 

"  Do  you  know  me?"  asked  the  latter. 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  are  Mr.  Barnum." 

"  Were  you  the  boy  who  pointed  me  out  as  Horace 
Greeley?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Rufus,  laughing ;  "  but  I  didn't 
think  the  man  would  believe  it." 

*'  He  thinks  so  still,"  said  Barnum.  "  I  don't 
think  there's  much  personal  resemblance  between  me 
and  the  editor  of  the  '  Tribune,' "  he  continued, 
meditatively. 

"No,  sir,  not  much." 

"  Don't  do  it  again,  my  lad.     It's  wrong  to  bum- 


174  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

bug  people,  you  know.  By  the  way,  do  you  ever 
come  to  the  Museum?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  3'our  joke  is  worth  something.  Here  is  a 
season  ticket  for  three  months." 

He  handed  the  newsboy",  as  he  spoke,  a  slip  of 
paper  on  which  was  written :  — 

**  Admit  the  bearer  to  any  performance  in  the  Museum 
during  tke  next  three  months.  P.  T.  Baknum." 

"  I  got  off  better  than  I  expected,"  thought  Rough 
and  Ready.  "  I  didn't  know  but  both  of  *em  would 
get  mad,  and  be  down  upon  me.  I  wish  he'd  given 
me  a  ticket  for  three,  and  I'd  have  taken  Miss  Man- 
ning and  Rose  along  with  me." 

As  he  thought  of  Rose,  it  was  with  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  that  she  was  so  well  provided  for.  He 
had  the  utmost  confidence  in  Miss  Manning,  and  he 
saw  that  a  mutual  affection  had  sprung  up  between 
Her  and  his  little  sister. 

"It'll  be  jolly  when  Rose  grows  up,  and  can  keep 
house  for  me,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  hope  I'll  be  in 
some  good  business  then.  Selling  papers  will  do 
very  well  now,  but  I  want  to  do  something  else  after 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBCYS.       i!d 

a  while.  I  wonder  whether  that  three  hundred  dol- 
liirs  I've  got  in  the  bank  wouldn't  set  me  up  in  some 
kind  of  business." 

While  these  thoughts  were  passing  through  his 
mind,  he  still  kept  cr3'ing  his  papers,  and  presently 
he  had  sold  the  last  one.  It  was  still  comparatively 
early,  and  he  thought  he  would  look  about  a  little  to 
see  if  there  was  no  chance  of  earning  a  little  extra 
money  by  running  on  an  errand. 

After  a  w^hile  he  w^as  commissioned  to  carry  a  mes- 
sage to  Twenty-Second  Street,  for  which  he  was  to 
receive  twenty-five  cents,  and  his  car  fares. 

"  I'll  walk  back,"  he  thought,  "  and  in  that  way 
I'll  save  six  cents  out  of  the  fares." 

The  walk  being  a  long  one,  he  was  absent  a  con- 
siderable time,  especially  as  he  stopped  for  a  while  at 
an  auction  on  Broadway.  At  last  he  reached  his 
old  stand,  and  was  thinking  of  buying  some  evening 
papers,  when  he  heard  his  name  called  in  a  tone  of 
anxiety. 

Turning  suddenly,  he  recognized  Miss  Manning 

"  Miss  Manning ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  surprise, 
'*How  io  you  happen  to  be  here?" 


1 76  ROUGn  AND   READY  J    OR, 

"  I  came  to  sec  j-ou,  Rufus." 

"Has  anything  happened?'*  he  asked  anxiously, 
seeing  the  troubled  expression  of  her  countenance. 
"Nothing  is  the  matter  with  Rose,  is  there? " 

"  She  has  gone." 

"  Gone ! " 

"  Yes,  she  has  disappeared.** 

"  Don't  say  that,  Miss  Manning.  Tell  me  quick 
all  about  it.'* 

"I  sent  her  out  on  an  errand  this  morning,  just 
around  the  corner,  for  a  spool  of  cotton,  and  she  has 
not  got  back." 

"  Do  you  think  she  lost  her  way?*' 

"  She  couldn't  very  well  do  that,  it  was  so  near  by. 
No,  Rufus,  I  am  afraid  she  has  been  carried  off  by 
your  stepfather.'* 

"What  makes  you  think  so.  Miss  Manning?"  de 
manded  Rufus,  in  excitement. 

"  I  waited  half  an  hour  after  she  went  out,  wonder 
mg  what  could  keep  her  so  long.     Then  I  began  to 
feel  anxious,  and  put   on   my  bonnet,    and   slipped 
downstairs   into    the   street.     I  went   round  to   the 
store,  and  found  she  had  gone  there  and  made  tbo 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       177 

purchase,  and  gone  away  directly.  I  was  wondering 
what  to  do  next,  when  one  of  the  neighbors  came  up, 
and  said  she  saw  Rose  dragged  awaj^  by  a  tall  man. 
She  gave  me  a  description  of  him,  and  it  corresponds 
exactly  to  the  description  of  Mr.  Martin.  I  am 
afraid,  Rufus,  that  he  has  carried  our  dear  little  Rose 
away.    What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"I'll  have  her  back,"  said  Rufus,  energetically. 
"He's  got  her  now;  but  he  shan't  keep  her.  But 
I'm  afraid,"  he  added,  sorrowfully,  "she'll  be  iU- 
treated  before  I  can  recover  her,  poor  Rose  I " 

12 


178  ROUGH  AND  ready;  oe^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOW   ROSE    FARED. 

We  return  to  Rose,  who  found  herself  very  unwill- 
lijgly  once  more  in  the  custody  of  her  stepfather. 

"  Go  out  and  play  in  the  back  3^ard  with  Fanny," 
said  Mrs.  Waters.  "  You'll  have  a  nice  time  to- 
gether, and  be  good  friends  in  less  than  no  time." 

Rose  followed  Fanny  slowly  into  the  back  j-ard ; 
but  she  had  very  little  hope  of  a  good  time.  She 
was  too  full  of  sorrowful  thoughts  for  that.  As  she 
looked  back,  a  moment  after  going  into  the  3'ard,  she 
saw  Mr.  Martin  shaking  his  fist  at  her  from  the  back 
window,  and  this  she  understood  very  well  was  a 
sign  of  the  treatment  which  she  had  to  expect. 

The  back  j^ard  was  not  a  very  pleasant  place.     It 
was  very  small  to  begin  with,  and   the  little  space 
was  littered  with  broken  bottles  and  rubbish  of  vjiri 
ous  kinds.    In  one  corner  was  a  cistern  nearly  full  of 
water,  which  had  been  standing  long  enough  to  be 
come  turbid. 


LIFE    AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       179 

"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  Fanny. 

"  I  don't  know/'  said  Rose,  without  much  interest 

"  ril  tell  3"ou,"  said  Fanny,  "  we'll  take  a  piece  of 
wood,  and  sail  it  in  the  cistern.  We  can  make  be 
lieve  it's  a  ship." 

"  You  can  do  it, "  said  Rose. 

"  Won't  you  play  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  feel  much  like  playing." 

"Why  don't  you?"  asked  Fanny,  curiously. 

"  I  wish  I  was  back  in  New  York." 

"  Who  were  you  with?  " 

"  With  Rufie." 

"Who's  he?" 

"  My  brother." 

"Is  he  a  nice  boy?" 

"Yes,  he's  the  nicest  boy  that  ever  lived,"  said 
Rose,  positively. 

"  Your  father  says  he's  a  bad  boy." 

"  He  isn't  my  father." 

"Isn't  your  father?" 

"  No,  he's  only  my  stepfather." 

Rose  was  about  to  say  something  against  Mr. 
Martin ;  but  it  occurred  to  her  that  if  it  came  to  the 


180  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

ears  of  the  latter,  she  might  fare  the  worse  for  il, 
and  according^  she  stopped  short. 

Fanny  picked  up  a  stick,  and  began  to  sail  it  about 
in  the  cistern.  After  a  while  Rose  went  up,  and 
looked  on  rather  listlessly.  At  length  Fanny  got 
tired  of  this  amusement,  and  began  to  look  around 
for  something  better  to  do.  In  the  corner  of  the 
yard  she  spied  the  cat,  who  was  lying  down  in  a  lazy 
attitude,  purring  contentedly  as  she  dozed. 

"I  know  what  I'll  do,"  she  said  ;  "  Til  have  some 
fun  with  puss." 

She  lifted  the  sleepy  cat,  and  conveyed  her 
straightway  to  the  cistern.  This  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Rose,  who  exclaimed,  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

"  I  am  going  to  see  puss  swim,"  said  the  nns- 
chievous  girl. 

Now  Rose  had  a  tender  heart,  and  could  not  bear 
to  see  an  animal  abused.  It  always  aroused  all  the 
chivalry  in  her  nature,  and  her  indignation  in  the 
present  case  overcame  not  onl3^  her  timidity,  but  the 
depression  she  had  felt  at  the  separation  from  her 
friends. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   TO  UK  NEWS  BO  Y3,        .81 

"  You  shan't  do  it,"  she  said,  energetically. 

"  Mind  3^our  business ! "  said  Fanny,  defiantly, 
*'  It's  my  cat,  and  I'm  going  to  put  her  into  th« 
vater." 

True  to  her  declaration,  she  dropped  the  cat  into 
the  cistern. 

Rose  waited  for  no  more,  but  ran  to  the  cistern, 
and,  pushing  Fanny  forcibly  away,  seized  the  cat  by 
her  neck,  and  pulled  her  out.  Puss,  on  being  res- 
cued, immediately  took  to  her  heels,  and  soon  was 
out  of  harm's  way. 

"What  did  you  do  that  for?"  exclaimed  Fanny, 
flaming  with  rage. 

"  You  had  no  right  to  put  the  cat  in  the  water," 
retorted  Rose,  intrepidly. 

"  I'll  put  you  in  the  water,"  said  Fanny.  "  I  wish 
you  were  drowned." 

"  You're  a  bad  girl,"  said  Rose. 

"  I  won't  play  with  you." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to.  I  don't  care  about  playing 
with  a  girl  that  behaves  so." 

"  I  behave  as  well  as  you  do,  anyway.** 

"  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you  any  more." 


182  ROVGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 

This  seemed  to  exasperate  Fannj^,  who,  overcome 
by  her  feeliugs.  flew  at  Rose,  and  scratched  her  in 
the  face.  Rose  was  very  peaceably  inclined,  but  she 
did  not  care  about  submitting  to  such  treatment. 
She  therefore  seized  Fanny  by  the  hands  and  hel 
them.  Unable  to  get  away,  Fanny  screamed  at  the 
top  of  her  voice.  This  brought  her  mother  to  the 
door. 

*'  What's  going  on  here?"  she  asked,  in  a  voice  of 
authority. 

"  She's  fighting  me,"  said  Fanny.  "  Take  her 
away." 

"  Let  go  my  child  at  once,  3'ou  wicked  girl !  "  said 
Mrs.  Waters,  whose  S3^mpathies  were  at  once  enlisted 
on  the  side  of  her  child. 

*'  Then  she  mustn't  scratch  me,"  said  Rose. 

"  What  did  you  scratch  her  for,  Fanny  ?  " 

"  She's  been  plaguing  me." 

**  How  did  she  plague  you?" 

"  I  was  playing  with  puss,  and  she  came  and  took 
the  cat  away,  and  pushed  me." 

"  You  are  a  bad,  quarrelsome  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Wa 
teis,  addressing  Rose,  "and  I'm  sorrj^Itold  your  law 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       183 

t'her  you  might  come  here.  He  told  me  you  were  bad ; 
but  I  didn't  think  you  would  show  out  so  quick.  If 
jrcu  were  my  girl,  I'd  give  you  a  good  whipping. 
As  it  is,  I  shall  inform  your  father  of  your  conduct, 
lis  soon  as  he  gets  home,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he 
will  punish  you." 

"  I  only  tried  to  prevent  Fanny  from  drowning  the 
cat,"  said  Rose.  "She  threw  her  into  the  water, 
and  I  took  her  out." 

*^  That's  a  likely  story.  I  don't  believe  it.  Is  it 
true,  Fanny  ?  " 

"  No,  it  isn't,"  said  Fanny,  whose  regard  for  truth 
was  not  very  strong. 

*'  So  I  supposed.  You  have  not  only  ill-treated 
my  girl,  but  you  have  told  a  wrong  stoiy  besides. 
Fanny,  come  in,  and  I  will  give  you  a  piece  of  cake." 

"  You  won't  give  her  any,  will  you,  ma?" 

"No,  she  don't  deserve  any." 

With  a  look  of  triumph  Fanny  went  into  the  house, 
leaving  poor  Rose  to  meditate  in  sorrow  upon  this 
new  phase  of  injustice  and  unhappiness.  It  seemed 
as  if  everybody  was  conspiring  to  injure  and  ill-treat 
her. 


184  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OMj 

"  I  "wish  Rufie  were  here,"  she  said,  *'  so  that  he 
might  take  me  awaj^" 

Then  came  to  her  mind  the  threat  of  her  step- 
father, and  she  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  Rufus 
being  killed.  From  what  she  knew  of  Mr.  Martin, 
she  didn't  think  it  very  improbable  that  he  would 
carry  out  his  threat. 

After  a  while  she  was  called  to  dinner,  but  she  had 
very  little  appetite. 

''So  3'ou're  sullen,  are  j^ou,  miss?"  said  Mrs. 
Waters.  "  You're  a  bad  girl,  and  if  I  were  your 
father,  I'd  give  you  a  lesson.     So  you  w^on't  eat !  " 

"  I  am  not  hungry,"  said  Rose. 

"  I  understand  very  well  what  that  means.  How 
ever,  if  you  don't  want  to  eat,  I  won't  make  you. 
You'll  be  hungry  enough  by  and  b}^,  I  guess." 

The  afternoon  passed  very  dismally  to  poor  Rose. 
Fanny  was  forbidden  by  her  mother  to  play  with  her, 
though  this  Rose  didn't  feel  at  all  as  a  privation 
She  was  glad  to  be  free  from  the  company  of  the 
little  girl  whom  she  had  begun  to  dislike,  and  spent 
her  time  in  brooding  over  her  sorrowful  fate.  She 
sat  by  the  window,  and  looked  at  the  people  passing 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW    YORK  NEWSBOYS.       185 

by,  but  she  took  little  interest  in  the  sight,  and  ivaa 
in  that  unhappy  state  when  the  future  seems  to  con- 
tain nothing  pleasant. 

At  length  Mr.  Martin  came  home.  His  nose  was 
as  radiant  as  ever,  and  there  was  little  doubt  that  he 
had  celebrated  his  capture  in  the  manner  most  agree- 
able to  him. 

"  So  j^ou're  here,  are  you?  "  he  said.  "  I  thought 
you  wouldn't  run  away  after  what  I  told  you.  It'll 
be  a  bad  day  for  you  and  yoxxx  rascal  of  a  brother  if 
you  do.     What  have  you  been  doing  ?  '* 

"  Sitting  by  the  window." 

"  Where's  the  other  little  girl  ?  Why  don't  you  go 
and  play  with  her,  instead  of  moping  here?  " 

"  I  don't  like  her,"  said  Rose. 

"  Tears  to  me  you're  mighty  particular  about  your 
company,"  said  Martin.  *' Maybe  she  don't  like  you 
any  better." 

To  this  Rose  didn't  replj^ ;  but  Mrs.  Waters,  who 
just  then  chanced  to  enter  the  room,  did. 

"Your  little  girl  abused  my  Fanny,"  she  said; 
"  and  I  had  to  forbid  them  playing  together.  I  found 
them  fighting  together  out  in  the  back  yard." 


186  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OIlj 

"  It  wasn't  m}^  fault,"  said  Rose.  * 

"  Don't  tell  me  that,"  said  Martin.  "  I  know  you 
of  old,  miss.  You're  a  troublesome  lot,  you  and  your 
brother  ;  but  now  I've  got  you  back  again,  I  mean  to 
tame  you  ;  see  if  I  don't." 

"  I  hope  you  will,"  said  Mrs.  Waters  ;  "  my  Fanny 
Is  a  very  sweet-dispositioned  child,  just  like  what  I 
was  at  her  age ;  and  she  never  gets  into  no  trouble 
with  nobody,  unless  they  begin  to  pick  on  her,  and 
then  she  can't  be  expected  to  stand  still,  and  be 
abused." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Martin. 

"Your  little  girl  attacked  her,  and  tried  to  stop 
her  playing  with  the  cat." 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for,  miss  ?  "  said  Mr.  Mar- 
tin, menacingly. 

"  She  threw  the  cat  into  the  cistern,"  said  Rose ; 
"and  I  was  afraid  she  would  drown." 

"  What  business  was  it  of  yours?  It  wasn't  youf 
cat,  was  it  ?  " 

^'No." 

"  It  was  my  daughter's  cat,"  said  Mrs.  Waters ; 
**  but  she  tells  me  she  didn't  throw  her  into  the  cI.h- 


IJFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       187 

».<:*n.     It's  my  belief  that  yo\xv  little  girl  did  it  her« 
5elf." 

"Just  as  likel}'  as  not,"  said  Martin,  with  a  hie 
cough.  "  Hark  you,  miss,"  he  continued,  steadying 
himself  by  the  table  on  which  he  rested  his  hand,  for 
his  head  was  not  altogether  steady,  "  Tve  got  some- 
thing to  say  to  you,  and  you'd  better  mind  what  I 
say.     Do  you  hear?" 

Rose  didn't  answer. 

"  Do  you  hear,  I  say  ?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  louder 
tone,  frowning  at  the  child. 

"  Yes." 

"  You'd  better,  then,  just  attend  to  your  own  busi 
ness,  for  you'll  find  it  best  for  yourself.  You've 
begun  to  cut  up  your  shines  pretty  early.  But  you 
don't  do  it  while  I'm  here.  What  are  you  snivelling 
about?"  —  for  Rose,  unable  to  repress  her  sorrow, 
began  to  sob.  "  What  are  you  snivelling  about,  I 
say?" 

"  I  want  to  go  back,  and  live  with  Rufie  and  Miss 
Manning,"  said  Rose.     "  Oh,  do  let  me  go  ! " 

"That's    a   pretty    cool    request,"    said    Martin, 


188  HOUGH  AND  beady;  OS, 

"  After  I've  been  so  long  bunting  j'ou  up,  j^ou  expect 
me  to  let  you  go  as  soon  as  I've  got  j^ou.     I  don't 
mean  to  let  you  go  back  to  Rufie,"  be  said,  mimick 
ing  tbe  little  giiTs  tone,  —  "not  if  I  know  it.     Be 
sides,"  be  added,  witb  a  sudden  tbougbt,  "  I  couldn' 
do  it  very  well  if  I  wanted  to.     Do  you  know  wboie 
your  precious  brotber  is?  " 

"  Wbere?"  asked  Rose,  in  alarm, 

"  Over  to  Blackwell's  Island.  He  was  took  up  this 
morning  for  stealing." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Rose,  indignantl3\  "  I 
know  be  wouldn't  steal." 

"  Ob,  well,  bave  it  your  own  way,  tben.  Puhaps 
you  know  better  tban  I  do.  Only  I'm  glad  I'm  not 
wbere  be  is." 

Of  course  tbis  story  was  all  a  fabrication,  invented 
to  tease  poor  Rose.  Tbougb  tbe  little  girl  didn't 
believe  it,  sbe  feared  tbat  Rufus  migbt  bave  got  into 
some  trouble,  —  some  innocent  persons  are  sometimes 
unjustly  suspected,  —  and  tbe  bare  possibility  of  sucb 
a  tbing  was  sufficient  to  make  ber  feel  unbappy.  •  Poor 
cbild  I     But  yesterday  sbe  had  been  full  of  innocent 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YOJiK   NEWSBOYS.        •  ?9 

joy  and  happiness,  and  now  everything  seemed  dark 
and  sorrowful.  When  should  she  see  Rufie  again? 
That  was  the  anxious  thought  that  kept  her  awake 
half  the  night 


»tfO  JtOVGn   AND   EEADl  J    W/f, 


CHAPTER  XVII 


SEARCHING    FOR   ROSE. 


If  Rose  passed  an  unhapp}^  afternoon  and  evening 
at  the  new  home  in  Brookljm,  her  brother  was 
Bcarcely  less  unhappy  in  his  old  home  in  New  York. 
He  loved  his  little  sister  devotedly,  and  the  thought 
that  she  might  be  receiving  ill-treatment  troubled 
him  exceedingly.  But  there  was  this  difference  be- 
tween  them :  Rose  was  timid,  and  saw  no  other  way 
but  to  endure  whatever  hardships  her  lot  imposed 
upon  her.  Rough  and  Ready,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  bold  and  enterprising,  and  not  easily  discour- 
aged. His  first  thought,  therefore,  was  to  get  his 
sister  back  again.  He  had  never  been  afraid  of  his 
stepfather  for  himself,  only  for  his  mother,  while  she 
lived,  and  afterwards  for  his  little  sister.  In  the 
present  case,  he  knew  that  Martin  was  irritated  at 
his  withdrawing  the  little  girl  from  him,  and  feared 
that  she  would  fare  the  worse  now  on  this  account. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYH,       191 

He  spent  the  evening  with  Miss  Manning,  who  was 
Ecarcely  less  troubled  than  himself  at  the  loss  of 
Rose.  The  lonely  seamstress  had  found  a  great  sol- 
ace and  comfort  in  the  society  of  the  little  girl,  and 
her  heart  had  been  drawn  to  her.  She  missed  her 
sweet  face,  and  the  thousand  questions  which  Rose 
was  in  the  habit  of  asking  as  they  sat  together 
through  the  long  day,  which  didn't  seem  half  so  long 
now  as  formerly,  when  she  was  alone. 

When  Rufus  entered  the  little  room,  the  first  ob- 
ject his  eyes  rested  upon  was  the  little  reading-book 
from  which  Rose  had  been  in  the  habit  of  getting  her 
daily  lessons.  "  When  will  she  read  in  it  again?" 
he  thought,  with  a  pang. 

"  She  was  getting  along  so  well  m  her  reading,'* 
said  Miss  Manning,  who  divined  his  thoughts.  *'  It'a 
such  a  pity  she  should  be  taken  away  just  at  this 
time." 

"  I'll  have  her  back,  Miss  Manning,  you  may  de- 
pend upon  it,"  said  Rufus,  energetically.  "  If  she'a 
anywhere  in  the  city  I'll  find  her." 

"  The  city  is  a  large  place,  Rufus,"  said  the  seam- 
stress,  a  little  despondently. 


192  ROUGH  AND  BEADY ;   OS, 

"  That's  true,  but  I  shan't  have  to  look  all  over  it. 
Mr.  Martin  isn't  very  likely  to  be  found  in  Fifth  Av- 
enue, unless  he's  better  off  than  he  used  to  be.  He's 
somewhere  in  the  lower  part  of  the  cit}",  on  the  east 
side,  and  that's  where  I'll  look.  'Twouldn't  be  much 
use  lookin*  over  the  arrivals  at  the  Astor  House,  or 
St.  Nicholas." 

"  That's  true,"  said  Miss  Manning,  smiling  faintly 

There  was  reason  in  what  the  newsboy  said  ;  but,  as 
we  know,  he  was  mistaken  in  one  point,  —  Mr.  Martin 
was  not  in  the  lower  part  of  the  cit}^  on  the  east  side, 
but  in  Brooklyn,  but  it  was  only  the  accident  of  his 
having  found  work  there,  which  had  caused  him  to 
remove  across  the  river. 

"Where  shall  you  look  first?"  asked  Miss  Man- 
ning. 

"  I  shall  go  to  Leonard  Street,  where  we  used  to 
live." 

" Do  you  think  your  stepfather  lives  there  now?'' 

"No;  but  perhaps  I  can  find  out  there  where  le 
does  live." 

Rufus  went  round  to  the  Lodging  House  at  tbt 
usual  time.     On  getting  up  in  the  morning,  instes^s^ 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        193 

of  going  to  the  paper  ojffices  as  usual,  he  went  round 
to  Leonard  Street.  His  anxiety  to  gain,  if  possible, 
some  tidings  about  Rose  would  not  permit  him  to 
delay  unnecessarity. 

Just  in  front  of  his  old  home  he  saw  a  slatternly 
looking  woman,  one  of  the  inmates  of  the  tenement 
house.     She  recognized  the  newsboy  at  once. 

"Where  did  you  come  from?"  she  asked.  "I 
haven't  seen  you  for  a  long  time." 

"  No,  Tm  living  in  another  place  now.  Have  you 
seen  anything  of  Mr.  Martin,4ately?" 

"  Aint  you  living  with  him  now  ?  " 

"  No,  I've  left  him.  I  suppose  he  isn't  in  the  old 
room." 

"  No,  he  went  away  some  weeks  ago.  The  agent 
was  awful  mad  because  he  lost  his  rent." 

"  Then  he  hasn't  been  back  since?  " 

"  I  haven't  seen  him.  Maybe  some  of  the  rest  ii« 
the  house  may  know  where  he  is.  Are  you  going  to 
live  with  him  again  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  newsboy ;  "  I'd  rather  take  care  of 
myself." 

''And  how's  that  little  sister  of  yours?" 


194  HOUGH  AND  ready;  oe^ 

"  He's  carried  her  off.  That's  why  I'm  trjin'  to  find 
him.     If  it  wasn't  for  that  I  wouldn't  trouble  myself." 

*' You  don't  say  so?  Well,  that's  a  pity.  He  isn't 
fit  to  take  care  of  her.     I  hope  you'll  find  her." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Simpson.     I  guess  I'll  go  up-, 
etairs  and  ask  some  of  the  rest." 

Rough  and  Ready  ascended  the  stairs,  and  called 
upon  some  of  his  old  acquaintances,  with  inquiries  of 
a  similar  character.  But  he  got  no,  information 
likely  to  be  of  service  to  him.  Martin  had  not  been 
seen  near  his  old  lodgings  since  the  day  when  he 
24ad  disappeared,  leaving  his  rent  unpaid. 

"Where  shall  I  go  next^*'  thought  the  newsboy, 
irresolutely. 

This  was  a  question  more  easily  asked  than  an 
Bwered.  He  realized  that  to  seek  for  Rose  in  the 
crreat  cit}^,  among  many  thousands  of  houses,  was 
something  like  seeking  a  needle  in  a  haystack. 

*'  I'll  go  and  get  my  papers,"  he  decided,  "  and 
while  I  am  selling  them,  perhaps  I  may  think  of 
where  to  go  next.  It'll  be  a  hard  job  ;  but  I'm  bound 
to  fiLd  Rose  if  she's  in  the  city." 

''"hat  she  was  in   the  city  he  did   not  entertain  « 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSB0T3.       195 

doubt.     Otherwise,  he  might  have  felt  less  sanguine 
of  ultimate  success. 

He  obtained  his  usual  supply  of  papers,  and  going 
to  his  wonted  stand  began  to  ply  his  trade. 

"  You're  late  this  morning,  aint  you?"  asked  Ben 
Gibson,  a  boot-black,  who  generally  stood  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Nassau  Street  and  Printing-House  Square 
"  Overslept  yourself,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"•  No,"  said  the  newsboy ;  "  but  I  had  an  errand  t<i 
do  before  I  began." 

"Get  paid  for  it?" 

"  Not  unless  I  pay  myself,  ll  was  an  errand  of 
my  own." 

"  I  can't  afford  to  work  for  myself,"  said  Be^.  "  A 
chap  asked  me,  yesterday,  why  I  didn't  black  my  own 
shoes.  I  axed  him  who  was  to  pay  me  for  doin'  it. 
Blackin'  costs  money,  and  I  can't  afford  to  wo^k  for 
nothin'." 

Ben's  shoes  certainly  looked  as  if  no  blacking  had 
ever  been  permitted  to  soil  their  virgin  purity.  Ipdeed, 
It  is  rather  a  remarkable  circumstance  that  thougn 
the  boot-blacks  generally  have  at  least  three-fourtha 
of  their  time  unoccupied,  and  sometimes  remain  idlo 


196  ROUQR  AND  ready;  or^ 

for  hours  at  a  time,  it  never  occurs  to  them  (so  far, 
at  least,  as  the  writer's  observation  extends)  to  use 
a  little  of  their  time  and  blacking  in  improving  the 
rondition  of  their  own  shoes  or  boots,  when  they  hap 
pen  to  have  any.  Whether  this  is  owing  to  a  spirit 
of  economj",  or  to  the  same  cause  which  hinders  a  phy 
sician  from  swallowing  his  own  pills,  it  is  not  easy  to 
say.  The  newsboy's,  on  the  contrary',  occasionally 
indulge  in  the  luxury  of  clean  shoes. 

"  Your  shoes  don't  look  as  if  they'd  been  blacked 
lately,"  said  Rough  and  Ready. 

**  No  more  they  haven't.  They  can't  stand  such 
rough  treatment.  It  would  be  too  much  for  their  del- 
icate constitutions." 

This  was  not  improbable,  since  the  shoes  in  ques- 
tion appeared  to  be  on  their  last  legs,  if  such  an  ex- 
pression may  be  allowed. 

*'  1  like  to  have  m}-  shoes  look  neat,"  said  Rufus. 

"Don't  you  want  a  shine?"  asked  Ben,  with  a 
professional  air. 

"  Can't  afford  it.  Maybe  I  will,  though,  if  j^ou'll 
trade." 

"As  how?" 


LIFE   AMOXG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSisOYS.       197 

*'  SLine  my  shoes,  and  I'll  give  you  a  '  Sun.' " 

"  That  amt  but  two  cents,"  said  Ben,  dubiously. 

"  I  know  that ;  but  j'-ou  oughtn't  to  charge  me  mora 
than  the  wholesale  price." 

"  Anything  in  the  '  Sun  *  this  mornin*?" 

•'  Full  account  of  a  great  murder  out  in  Buflfalo," 
said  the  newsboy,  in  his  professional  tone. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  but  I'll  do  it,"  said  Ben. 
"  Only  if  a  gent  comes  along  what  grants  a  shine, 
you  must  let  me  off  long  enough  to  do  the  job 
I'll  finish  yours  afterwards." 

"  All  right." 

Ben  got  out  his  brush,  and,  getting  on  his  knees, 
began  operations. 

"'Herald,'  'Times,'  'Tribune,'  'World!'"  the 
newsboy  continued  to  cry. 

"  Seems  to  me,  young  man,  you're  rather  partic- 
ular about  your  appearance  for  a  newsboy,"  said  a. 
gentleman,  who  came  up  just  as  Ben  was  giving 
the  finishing  touch  to  the  first  shoe. 

"  Oh,"  said  Ben,  speaking  for  his  customer,  "  he 
only  sells  papers   for   amoosement.     He's   a  young 


198  EOUGn  AND  ready;  or, 

chap  of  fortune,  and  is  first  cousin  to  the  King  of 
Mulberry  Street. 

"Indeed!  I  think  I  must  purchase  a  paper  then, 
Y"ou  may  give  me  the  '  Herald.'  " 

"  Here  it  is,  sir." 

"Do  you  also  black  boots  for  amusement?" 
addressing  Len. 

"  Well,"  said  Ben,  "  it  may  be  a  very  amoosin* 
occupation  for  some,  but  I  find  it  rather  wearin'  to 
the  knees  of  m}^  pantaloons.  It  sort  of  unfits  me 
for  genteel  societ3^" 

"  Then  why  don't  you  select  some  other  busi- 
ness ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  whether  I'd 
rather  be  a  lawyer  or  a  banker.  While  I'm  decidin' 
I  may  as  well  black  boots." 

"  You're  an  original,  I  see." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment ;  "  and  Ben  roso 
from  his  knees,  having  made  the  newsboy's  second 
shoe  shine  like  a  mirror.  "  Now,  mister,  if  j'ou'd 
like  to  have  your  boots  shined  up  by  a  gentleman  in 
reduced  circumstances,  I'm  ready  for  the  job." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,        199 

"  Well,  perhaps  T  ma}^  as  well.  So  you*re  in 
reduced  circumstances,  my  lad?" 
,  "  Yes,  sir  ;  my  aristocratic  relatives  have  disowned 
me  since  I  took  to  blackin'  boots,  just  like  they  did 
Ferdinand  Montressor,  in  the  great  play  at  the  Old 
Bowery,  when  he  lost  his  fortun'  and  went  to  tend 
ing  bar  for  a  livin'." 

"  I  suppose  Ferdinand  came  out  right  in  the  end, 
didn't  he?'' 

"  Yes,  sir ;  owing  to  the  death  of  fifteen  of  his 
nearest  relations,  who  got  blown  up  in  a  steamboat 
explosion,  he  became  the  owner  of  Montressor 
Castle,  and  a  big  pile  of  money  besides,  and  lived 
happy  forever  after." 

"  Well,  my  lad,  perhaps  you'll  be  lucky  too." 

"  Maybe  you're  meanin'  to  give  me  a  quarter  for 
blackin'  your  boots,"  said  Ben,  shrewdly. 

"  No,  I  wasn't  intending  to  do  it ;  but,  as  you're  a 
gentleman  in  reduced  circumstances,  I  don't  know 
but  I  will." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Ben,  pocketing  the  money 
vrith  satisfaction.      "  Any  time  you  want  your  boots 


200  liouoa  AND  ready;  or, 

blacked,  jast  call  on  me,  and  I'll  give  you  the  bulll 
est  shine  3'oa  ever  saw." 

"  All  right,  good-morning  !  When  you  get  into 
your  castle,  I'll  come  and  see  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  hope  3'ou'll  live  long  enough 
to  do  it." 

"  That's  wishing  me  a  long  life,  I  take  it,"  said  the 
gentleman,  smiling. 

"  You're  in  luck,  Ben,"  said  the  newsboy. 

"  That's  so.     He's  what  I  call  a  gentleman." 

*'  Lucky  for  you  he  isn't  in  reduced  circumstances 
like  me.  Here's  j^our  '  Sun.*  When  J  get  rich  I'll 
pay  you  better." 

Ben  began  to  spell  out  the  news  in  the  '  Sun,'  with 
6ome  difiliculty,  for  his  education  was  limited,  and 
Rufus  continued  to  cry  his  papers. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  happening  to  have  his. 
face  turned  towards  the  corner  of  Nassau  Street,  he 
made  a  sudden  start  as  he  saw  the  familiar  figure  ot 
Martin,  his  stepfather,  just  turning  into  the  Square 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWS  BO  IS.       20] 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

A   PARLEY   WITH   THE   ENEMT. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  James  Marti  a's 
motive  in  recovering  Rose  was  not  a  feeling  of 
affection  for  her,  for  this  he  had  never  had,  but 
rather  a  desire  to  thwart  Rufus  in  his  plans.  The 
newsboy's  refusal  to  work  for  his  support  had 
incensed  his  stepfather,  and  Martin  was  a  man  who 
was  willing  to  take  considerable  trouble  to  gratify 
his  spite. 

It  was  quite  in  accordance  with  this  disposition  of 
his,  that,  after  recovering  Rose  in  the  manner  we 
have  seen,  he  was  not  content,  until  he  had  seen  her 
brother,  and  exulted  over  him.  On  the  day  succeed- 
ing, therefore,  instead  of  going  to  work,  he  came 
over  to  New  York,  for  the  express  purpose  of  wit- 
nessing our  hero's  grief  and  chagrin  at  the  loss  of 
his  sister.     He  knew  very  well  where  to  find  him. 

Rough  and   Ready  surveyed   the   approach  of  his 


202  ROUGH  AND  heady;  OJt^ 

stepfather  with  mingled  anger  and  anxiety  He  it 
was  that  held  in  his  power  the  one  whom  the  news- 
boy loved  best.  Rufus  guessed  his  motive  in  seeking 
him  now,  and,  knowing  that  he  intended  to  speak  to 
him,  awaited  his  address  in  silence. 

"  Well,  Rufus,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  with  a  malicious 
grin,  *'  how  are  you  this  morning?" 

"  I  am  well,"  said  the  newsboy,  shortly. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Martin  ;  "  Td  ought  to 
feel  glad  of  it,  j-ou've  been  such  a  dootiful  son." 

"  I  am  not  your  son,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  in  a 
tone  which  indicated  that  he  was  ver}^  glad  that  no 
such  relationship  existed  between  them. 

"  That's  iucky  for  me,"  said  Martin ;  "  I  wouldn't 
own  such  a  young  cub.  When  I  have  a  son,  I  hope 
he'll  be  more  dootiful,  and  treat  me  with  more  grati- 
tude." 

"What  should  I  be  grateful  for?"  demanded  the 
newsboy,  quickly. 

"  Didn't  I  take  care  of  3^ou,  and  give  you  victuals 
ftnd  clothes  for  years  ?  " 

"  Not  that  T  know  of,"  said  Rufus,  coolly.      "  Fye 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       203 

!iad  to  support  myself,  and  help  support  3'ou,ever 
since  we  came  to  New  York." 

*' So  5^ou  complain  of  having  to  work,  do  you? 
*Cause  I  was  a  poor  man,  and  couldn't  support  you 
in  idleness,  you  think  you're  ill  used." 

"I  never  complained  of  having  to  work.  I  am 
willing  to  work  hard  for  myself —  and  Rose." 

"  How  is  Rose  now  ?  I  hope  she  is  well,"  said 
Martin,  with  a  smile  of  triumph. 

"  That's  what  Fd  like  to  have  you  tell  me,"  said 
Rufus,  looking  steadily  at  Martin.  "  Where  have 
you  carried  my  sister  ?  " 

"  What  should  I  know  of  your  sister?  "  said  Mar- 
tin. "  The  last  I  knew,  you  kidnapped  her  from  my 
care  and  protection." 

"  Your  care  and  protection  !  "  repeated  Rough  and 
Ready,  disdainfully.  >'  What  care  did  you  ever  take 
of  her?  You  did  nothing  for  her  support,  but  came 
home  drunk  about  every  day.  You  couldn't  take 
care  of  yourself,  much  less  any  one  else." 

"  Do  you  want  a  licking?"  asked  Martin,  angrily, 
approaching  a  little  nearer. 


204  ROUGH  AXD  ready;  or, 

Rough  and  Ready  didn't  budge  an  inch,  for  he  was 
not  in  the  least  afraid  of  his  stepfather. 

"  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  try  it,  Mr.  Martin,"  he 
said,  composedly.  "  I  am  able  to  take  care  of  my- 
self." 

"  Are  you?  I  am  happy  to  hear  it,"  sneered  Mar- 
tin, repressing  his  anger,  as  he  thought  that,  after  all, 
he  had  it  in  his  power  to  punish  Rufus  more  effect- 
ually and  safely  through  his  sister  than  by  any 
attempt  at  present  violence.  "  I'm  happy  to  hear  it, 
for  I've  relieved  you  of  any  other  care.  I  will  take 
care  of  Rose  now." 

"  Where  is  she?"  asked  Rufus,  anxiously. 

"  She's  safe,"  said  Martin. 

" Is  that  all 5'ou  are  going  to  tell  me? " 

"  It's  all  you  need  to  know.  Only,  if  you're  very 
anxious  to  contribute  to  j^our  sister's  support,  3^ou 
can  hand  me  the  money,  and  it  shall  go  for  her 
board." 

As  he  looked  at  Martin  with  his  air  of  insolent 
triumph,  the  newsboy  felt  that  he  hated  him.  It  was 
not  a  Christian  feeling,  but  it  was  a  very  natural 
one.     This  was  the  man  who  had  made  his  mother's 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        20S 

life  a  wretched  one,  and  hastened  her  death  ;  who  ir 
this  and  other  wa3's  had  brought  grief  and  trouble 
upon  Rose  and  himself,  and  w^ho  now  seemed  deter- 
mined to  contiiaue  his  persecutions,  out  of  a  spirit  of 
miserable  spite  and  hatred.  He  would  hardly  have 
been  able  to  control  his  temper,  but  he  knew  that 
Martin  would  probably  wreak  vengeance  upon  his 
sister  for  anything  he  might  do  to  provoke  him,  and 
he  resolved,  poor  as  the  chance  was,  to  try  and  see 
if  he  could  not  conciliate  him,  and  induce  him,  if  pos- 
sible, to  give  up  Rose  again  to  his  own  care. 

"  Mr.  Martin,"  he  said,  "  Rose  will  only  be  a 
trouble  and  expense  to  you.  Why  won't  you  bring 
her  back?  You  don't  care  for  her;  but  she  is  my 
sister,  and  I  will  willingly  work  for   her  support." 

"Rose  must  stay  with  me,"  said  Martin.  "If 
you're  so  anxious  to  pay  her  expenses,  you  can  pay 
me." 

"  I  want  her  to  live  with  me." 

"  Sorry  I  couldn't  accommodate  you,"  said  Martin  , 
"  but  your  influence  was  bad  on  her.  I  can't  allow 
you  to  be  together.  She's  been  growing  a  great  deal 
vjus  since  she  was  with  me.     I  carried  her  yesterday 


206  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR^ 

to  a  nice,  respectable  boarding-place,  and  the  fust 
thing  she  did  was  to  get  to  fighting  with  another 
little  gal  in  the  house." 

"Where  was  that?  " 

*'  Maybe  you'd  like  to  have  me  tell  you." 

"  Rose  is  a  very  sweet,  peaceable  little  girl,  and  if 
she  got  into  trouble,  the  other  girl  was  to  blame." 

"The  other  girl's  a  little  angel,  so  her  mother 
says,  and  she  ought  to  know.  Rose  has  got  a  sullen, 
bad  temper ;  but  I'll  break  her  of  it,  see  if  I  don't." 

"  If  you  ill-treat  m}'  sister,  it'll  be  the  ^vorse  for 
you,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  hotly. 

"  Hoity-toity,  I  guess  I  can  punish  my  child,  if  I 
see  fit,  without  asking  j^our  leave." 

"  She  isn't  your  child." 

"I've  got  her  in  my  charge,  and  I  mean  to  keep 
her." 

This  was  unfortunately  true,  and  Rufus  chafed  in- 
wardl}^  that  it  was  so.  To  think  that  his  darling 
little  Rose  should  be  in  the  power  of  such  a  coarse 
brute  was  enough  to  fill  him  with  anger  and  despaii. 
But  what  could  he  do?  Was  there  any  way  in  which 
he  could  get  her  back?     If  he  onl3'  knew  where  shr 


LIFE   AMONG    T/IE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       207 

was  !  But  of  this  he  was  entirely  ignorant.  Indig- 
nant as  he  was,  he  must  use  conciliating  means  as 
long  as  there  was  any  chance  that  these  would  aval] 
anything.  He  thought  of  the  money  he  had  laid 
aside,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  Mr.  Martin  might 
be  accessible  to  a  bribe.  He  knew  that  his  step- 
father was  very  poorly  provided  with  money,  unless 
he  had  greatly  improved  in  his  habits  upon  his  former 
mode  of  life.  At  all  events,  he  could  but  fail,  and  he 
determined  to  make  the  attempt. 

"Mr.  Martin,"  he  said,  "  if  you'll  bring  my  sister 
back,  and  agree  not  to  take  her  away  from  me  again, 
I'll  give  you  ten  dollars." 

"Have  you  got  so  much  money?"  asked  Martin, 
doubtfully. 

"  Yes." 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  I  earned  it." 

"  Have  you  got  any  more  ?  " 

"A  little." 

The  newsboy  did  not  think  it  expedient  to  let  his 
stepfather  know  precisely  how  much  he  had,  for  he 
knew  his  demands  would  rise  with  the  knowledge. 


208  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

'*  How  much  more  ? "  persisted  Martin. 

"  I  can't  exactlj^  say." 

*'  Have  you  got  fifteen  dollars  ?  "  , 

"  I  will  try  to  raise  it,  if  j'ou  will  bring  back  my 
sister." 

Martin  hesitated.  Fifteen  dollars  was  not  to  be 
I  despised.  This  sum  would  enable  him  to  live  in  idle- 
i  ness  for  a  time.  Besides  he  would  be  relieved  of  the 
I  expenses  of  Rose,  and  this  would  amount  in  time  to 
considerable.  As  he  did  not  pretend  to  feel  any 
attachment  to  his  stepdaughter,  and  didn't  expect  to 
receive  any  pleasure  or  comfort  from  her  society,  it 
certainly  seemed  to  be  a  desirable  arrangement.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  was  pleasant  to  a  man  lilve  Mar- 
tin to  feel  that  he  had  some  one  in  his  power  OYor 
whom  he  could  exercise  control,  and  upon  whom  he 
might  expend  his  auger.  Besides,  he  would  keep 
Rufus  in  a  constant  state  of  trouble  and  anxiety,  and 
this,  too,  was  something.  Still  he  did  not  like  to 
give  up  wholly  the  chance  of  gaining  the  fifteen 
dollars.  After  a  little  hesitation,  he  said,  "  Have 
you  got  the  money  with  you?" 

"  No." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       209 

**  Have  you  any  of  it  with  you?" 

"  Only  a  dollar  or  two." 

"  That  won't  do." 

*' Why  do  you  ask?" 

"  Because  I  should  want  part  or  the  whole  of  it  in 
4dvance." 

"  I  shouldn't  be  willing  to  pay  you  in  advance," 
paid  the  newsboy,  whose  confidence  in  his  stepfather's 
integrity  was  by  no  means  large. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I'll  pay  you  when  you  bring  Rose.  That's  fair 
enough." 

"  Perhaps  you  wouldn't  have  the  money." 

"  Then  you  could  carry  her  back  again." 

"  And  have  all  my  trouble  for  nothing ! " 

"  You  won't  have  all  your  trouble  for  nothing.  1 
want  Rose  back,  and  I  shall  be  sure  to  have  the 
money  with  me." 

Mr.  Martin  reflected  a  moment.     He  knew  that  he 

could  trust  the  newsboy's  word.     Much  as  he  disliked 

him,  he  knew  that  if  he  made  a  promise  he  would 

keep  it,  if  there  was  a  possibility  of  his  doing  so. 

Fifteen  dollars  was  quite  a  sum  to  him,  for  it  was  a 
u 


210  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

long  time  since  he  had  had  so  much,  and  such  were 
his  shiftless  habits,  that  it  would  probably  be  a  long 
time  before  he  would  have  it,  especially  if  he  had  to 
pay  for  the  board  of  Rose.  Again,  it  occurred  to  hiri 
that  if  he  should  surrender  Rose,  and  receive  the 
money,  he  might  steal  her  again,  and  thus  lose  noth 
ing.  But  then  it  was  probable  that  Rufus  would 
guard  against  this  by  removing  to  a  different  quarter 
of  the  city,  and  not  permitting  Rose  to  go  out  unac 
companied. 

So  there  was  a  little  conflict  in  his  mind,  and 
finally  he  came  to  this  decision.  He  would  not  sur 
render  Rose  quite  j^et.  He  wanted  to  torment  both 
her  and  her  brother  a  little  longer.  There  was  time 
enough  to  make  the  arrangement  a  week  hence.  Per- 
haps by  that  time  the  newsboy  would  be  ready  to 
increase  his  offer. 

*'  Well,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  "  what  do  you 
Bay?" 

"  I'll  think  about  it." 

"  You'd  better  decide  now." 

"  No,  I  don't  feel  like  it.  Do  you  think  I'm  ready 
to  give  up  my  little  daughter's  society,  after  having 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       211 

ber  with  me  only  a  day  ? "  and  he  smiled  in  a  way 
that  provoked  Rufus,  as  he  knew  it  would. 

"  Will  you  bring  her  to-morrow?"  asked  the  news 
boy,  who  felt  that  he  must  hold  his  anger  in  check. 

"  Maybe  I'll  bring  her  in  the  course  of  a  week ;  that 
is,  if  she  behaves  herself.  I  must  break  her  of  some 
of  her  faults.     She  needs  trainin*." 

"  She's  a  good  little  girl." 

"  She's  got  to  be  better  before  I  give  her  back. 
Hope  j^ou  won't  fret  about  her  ;  "  and  Martin  walked 
away,  with  a  half  laugh,  as  he  saw  the  trouble  which 
the  newsboy  couldn't  help  showing  in  his  face. 

A  sudden  idea  came  to  Rufus. 

"Ben,"  he  said,  beckoning  to  Ben  Gibson,  who 
had  just  got  through  with  a  job,  "  do  you  see  that 
man?" 

"  The  one  you've  been  talking  with?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  what  about  him?" 

"  I'll  give  you  a  dollar  if  j^ou'll  follow  him,  and 
find  out  where  he  lives.  Of  course  he  mustn't  know 
that  you  are  following  him." 

"  Maybe  he  isn't  going  home." 


212  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  Never  mind.  Follow  him  if  it  takes  you  all  day, 
and  you  shall  have  the  dollar." 

"  Maybe  I'll  get  oflf  the  track." 

"  You're  too  sharp  for  that.  You  see,  Ben,  he's 
carried  off  my  little  sister,  and  I  want  to  find  out 
where  he  has  put  her.  Just  find  out  for  me  where 
she  is,  and  we'll  carry  her  ofi"  from  him." 

"  That'll  be  bully  fun,"  said  Ben.  "  I'm  your  man. 
Just  take  care  of  my  box,  and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do." 

Mr.  Martin  had  turned  down  Spruce  Street.  He 
kept  on  his  wa}^,  not  suspecting  that  there  was  some 
on(»  on  his  track. 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       213 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


ROSE   AGAIN   IN  TROUBLE. 


Leaving  Ben  Gibson  on  the  track  of  Mr.  Martm, 
we  must  return  to  Rose,  and  inquire  how  she  fared  in 
her  new  home  at  Brooklyn.  Mrs.  Waters  had  akeady 
taken  a  strong  prejudice  against  her,  on  account  of 
the  misrepresentations  of  her  daughter  Fanny.  If 
Fanny  was  an  angel,  as  her  mother  represented,  then 
angels  must  be  ver}^  disagreeable  people  to  live  with. 
The  little  girl  was  rude,  selfish,  and  had  a  violent 
temper.  Had  Mr.  Martin  stood  by  Rose,  her  treat- 
ment would  have  been  much  better,  for  policy  would 
have  led  Mrs.  Waters  to  treat  her  with  distinguished 
consideration  ;  but  as  parental  fondness  was  not  a 
weakness  of  her  stepfather,  the  boarding-house 
keeper  felt  under  no  restraint. 

"  What  shall  I  do  if  your  little  girl  behaves  badly, 
Mr.  Martin  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Waters,  as  he  was  about  to 
leave  the  house  in  the  morning. 


214  ROUGH  AKD   READY;    OK^ 

"  Punish  her,  ma'am.  You  needn't  feel  no  deh' jacj? 
about  it.  I'll  stand  by  you.  She's  a  bad,  trouble- 
some girl,  and  a  good  whipping  every  day  is  just 
what  she  needs.     Do  you  hear  that,  miss  ?  " 

Rose  did  not  answer,  but  her  lip  quivered  a  little. 
It  seemed  hard  to  the  little  girl,  fresh  from  the  atmos- 
phere of  love  by  which  she  had  been  surrounded  in 
her  recent  home,  to  be  treated  with  such  injustice  and 
unfairness. 

"Why  don't  you  answer,  miss?"  roaiod  James 
Martin,  savagely.     "  Didn't  you  hear  whal  £  said?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose. 

"  Mind  you  remember  it,  then.  If  yoii  don't  be- 
have yourself,  Mrs.  Waters  has  ray  full  pei mission  to 
punish  you,  and  if  she  don't  punish  you  enough,  I'll 
give  3^ou  a  little  extra  when  I  get  home.  I  shall  ask 
her  to  report  to  me  about  you.     Do  you  hear?  " 

"  Yes," 

"  Yes  !     Where's  3- our  manners?     Say  '  Yes,  sir/  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Mind  3'ou  remember  then.  And  there '^  one  thing 
more.  Don't  you  go  to  run  away.  If  ran  do,  it'll 
be  the  worse  for  your  brother." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       215 

With  this  parting  threat  he  went  out  of  the  house. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Waters,  "  go  out  and 
play.  I'm  up  to  m}^  elbows  in  work,  and  I  can't  have 
you  in  the  way." 

"Where  shall  we  go?"  asked  Rose. 

"  Out  in  the  back  yard." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  out  in  the  back  yard,"  said 
Fanny ;  ''  there  aint  anything  to  do  there." 

"  Well,  go  out  into  the  street  then,  if  you  want 
to." 

"  Yes,  I'd  rather  go  there." 

Rose  followed  Fanny  into  the  street  in  rather  a 
listless  manner,  for  she  did  not  expect  much  enjoy- 
ment. 

"  Now,  what  shall  we  do?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Rose. 

**  I  know  where  there's  a  candy-shop." 

"Do  you?" 

"  Yes ,  just  at  the  corner.    Do  you  like  candy  ?  '* 

"  Yes,  pretty  well." 

"You  havon't  got  an>  money,  hav^  yoi:?*''  said 
Fanny,  insinuatingly. 

"  No,  I  baveu't,''  answerec?  Rose- 


216  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  I  wish  you  had.  I  like  csmdy,  but  mother  won*t 
give  me  any  money  to  buj^  anj^     She's  real  mean.'* 

"Do  3'ou  call  your  mother  mean?"  said  Rose, 
rather  shocked. 

"  Yes,  she  might  give  me  a  penny.  Oh,  there's  a 
hand-organ.     Come,  let's  go  and  hear  it." 

An  Italian,  with  a  hand-organ,  had  taken  his  sta- 
tion before  a  house  in  the  next  block.  There  was  a 
half-grown  girl  with  a  tambourine  in  his  company, 
and,  best  of  all,  a  monkey  was  perched  on  the  per- 
former's shoulder,  with  his  tail  curled  up  in  a  ring, 
and  his  head  covered  with  a  red  cap,  and  his  sharp 
little  eyes  roving  from  one  to  another  of  the  motley 
group  drawn  around  the  organ,  keenly  watching  for 
the  stray  pennies  which  were  bestowed  as  much  for 
the  sake  of  seeing  the  monkey  pick  them  up,  as  a 
compensation  for  the  music,  which  was  of  rather  an 
inferior  order,  even  for  a  hand-organ. 

"  Let's  go  and  hear  the  organ,"  repeated  Fanny. 

To  this  proposal  Rose  made  no  objection.  Chil- 
dren are  not  critical  in  music,  and  the  tunes  which 
issued  from  the  wheezy  organ  had  their  attraction  for 
her.      The  monkey  was  equally  attractive    with  hia 


ijlll  I  I  Ik  ////  /// 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       21'. 

queer,  brown  face,  and  Rose  was  very  willing  to  g< 
nearer  with  her  companion. 

"Aint  he  a  funny  monkey?"  said  Fanny.  *'He 
took  off  his  hat  to  me.  I  wish  I  had  a  penny  to 
throw  to  him,  though  I  don't  think  I'd  give  it  to  him. 
I'd  rather  spend  it  for  candy,"  she  added,  after  a  lit- 
tle reflection. 

Here  the  organ  struck  up  "  Old  Dog  Tray,"  that 
Feteran  melody,  which  celebrates,  in  rather  doleful 
measure,  the  fidelity  and  kindness  of  its  canine  hero. 
But  the  small  crowd  of  listeners  were  not  apprecia 
tive,  as  in  response  to  the  strains  only  a  solitary 
penny  was  forthcoming,  and  this  was  thrown  by  a 
butcher's  boy,  who  chanced  to  be  passing.  The 
Italian,  concluding  probably  that  he  was  not  likely 
to  realize  a  fortune  in  that  locality,  shouldered  his 
hand-organ,  and  moved  up  the  street. 

"  Let's  go  after  him,"  said  Fanny. 

"  Shall  you  know  the  way  back  ?  "  said  Rose. 

"  Yes,  I  know  well  enough,"  said  Fanny,  care* 
lesslj^ 

Rose  accordingly  followed  her  without  hesitation, 
and  when  the  Italian  again  stopped,  the  two  little 


218  ROUGH  AND  READY;    OR, 

girls  made  a  part  of  his  audience.  After  g''ang 
through  his  series  of  tunes,  and  gathering  a  si'xall 
stock  of  pennies,  the  organ-grinder  again  started  on 
his  travels.  Rose  and  Fanny,  having  no  better 
amusement  before  them,  still  kept  his  company,  anJ 
this  continued  for  an  hour  or  two. 

By  this  time  they  had  unconsciously  got  a  consid 
erable  distance  from  home.  There  is  no  knowing 
how  far  they  would  have  gone,  had  not  the  tarabou 
rine  player  detected  Fanny  in  picking  up  a  penny 
which  had  been  thrown  for  the  musicians.  Fanny, 
supposing  that  she  was  not  observed,  slipped  it  into 
her  pocket  slily,  intending  to  spend  it  for  candy  on 
her  way  home.  But  she  was  considerably  alarmed 
when  the  girl,  her  dark  face  full  of  indignation,  ran 
forward,  and,  seizing  her  by  the  arm,  shook  her, 
uttering  the  while  an  incoherent  medley  of  Italian 
and  English. 

*'  What's  the  row  ?  What  has  the  little  girl  done  ?  " 
asked  a  man  in  the  group. 

"  She  one  tief.  She  took  pennj%  and  put  in  her 
pocket,"  said  the  Italian  girl,  continuing  to  shake 
her. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOTS,       219 

Fanny  protested  with  tears  that  she  had  not  done 
It,  but  a  boy  near  by  testified  that  he  had  seen  her 
do  it.  With  shame  and  mortification,  Fanny  was 
obliged  to  produce  the  purloined  penn}^,  and  give  it 
to  the  monkey,  who,  in  spite  of  her  intended  dishon- 
esty, had  the  politeness  to  remove  his  hat,  and  make 
her  a  very  ceremonious  bow. 

"  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  of  yourselves," 
said  a  stout  woman,  addressing  both  little  girls. 

"  I  didn't  take  the  penny,"  said  Rose,  resenting 
the  imputation  ;  ''  I  wouldn't  steal  for  anything." 

"  She  wanted  me  to  take  it,"  said  Fanny,  mali- 
ciously, *'  so  that  I  could  buy  some  candy  for  her." 

*'  That's  a  story,"  said  Rose,  indignantly  ;  "  I  didn't 
know  you  meant  to  do  it,  till  I  saw  you  slip  it  into 
your  pocket." 

"I've  no  doubt  one's  as  bad  as  the  other,"  said 
the  woman,  with  commendable  inpartiality. 

"Go 'way,"  said  the  tambourine  girl ;  "you  steal 
some  more  penny." 

"  Come  awa}^,  Fanny,"  said  Rose  ;  "  I'm  ashamed 
to  stay  here  any  longer,  and  I  should  think  you 
would  be." 


220  ROVGH  AXD  heady;  or^ 

As  circumstances  made  the  neighborhood  of  the 
musicians  rather  unpleasant,  Fanny  condescended  to 
adopt  the  suggestion  of  her  companion. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  home,"  she  said.  "  I'm  hungry, 
and  ma'll  give  me  some  gingerbread.  She  won't 
give  you  any,  for  j'ou're  a  bad  girl." 

"  "What  are  you  ?  "  retorted  Rose. 

'*  I'm  a  good  girl." 

"  I  never  heard  of  a  good  girl's  stealing,"  said 
Rose. 

"  If  3^ou  say  that  again,  I'll  strike  aou,"  said  Fanny, 
who  was  rather  sensitive  about  the  charge,  particu- 
larly as  it  happened  to  be  true. 

Rose  was  not  fond  of  disputing,  and  made  no 
reply,  but  waited  for  Fanny  to  show  her  the  way 
home.  But  this  Fanny  was  unable  to  do.  She  had 
followed  the  organ-grinder  round  so  many  corners 
that  she  had  quite  lost  her  reckoning,  and  had  no 
idea  where  she  was.  Slie  stood  undecided,  and 
looked  helplessly  around  her. 

"  I  don't  know  where  to  go,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  you  know  the  way  home  ?  "  asked  Rose. 

"  No,"  answered  Fann^',  almost  read}^  to  cry. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       221 

Rose  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  glad  or  to  be 
80Pr3\  If  she  should  be  lost,  and  not  find  her  way- 
back  to  the  boarding-house,  there  would  be  this  com- 
fort at  least,  that  she  would  be  separated  from  Mr. 
Martin.  Still  she  was  not  quite  prepared  to  live  in 
the  streets,  and  didn't  know  how  to  go  to  work  to 
find  her  brother.  Besides,  Mr.  Martin  had  threatened 
to  harm  him  in  case  she  ran  awaj^  So,  on  the  whole, 
she  was  rather  in  hopes  that  Fanny  would  remember 
the  way. 

"  We'd  better  go  straight  along,"  suggested  Rose, 
"  and  perhaps  we  shall  find  your  house." 

As  Fanny  had  no  better  plan  to  propose,  they  de- 
termined to  adopt  this  plan.  Neither  had  taken  any 
particular  notice  of  the  way  by  which  they  had  come, 
and  were  therefore  unable  to  recognize  any  land- 
marks. So,  instead  of  nearing  home,  they  were  actu- 
ally getting  farther  and  farther  away  from  it,  and 
there  is  no  knowing  where  they  would  finally  have 
brought  up,  if  in  turning  a  corner  they  had  not  found 
themselves  all  at  once  face  to  face  with  Mrs.  Waters 
herself.  It  may  be  explained  that  the  latter,  after  an 
hour,  not  hearing  the  voices  of  the  children  outside, 


222  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

had  become  alarmed,  and  started  in  pursuit.  She 
had  already  had  a  long  and  weary  walk,  and  it  was 
only  by  the  merest  cliance  that  she  caught  sight  of 
them.  This  long  walk,  with  the  anxiety  which  she 
had  felt,  had  not  improved  her  temper,  but  made  her 
angr^^,  so  that  she  was  eager  to  vent  her  indignation 
upon  the  two  children. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  j^ou  little  plagues,  by  run 
ning  away?"  she  asked,  seizing  each  child  roughly 
by  the  arm.     "  Here  I've    been   rushing    round  the 
streets  after  you,  neglecting   my  work,  for   a   good 
hour." 

"She  wanted  to  go,"  said  Fanny,  pointing  to 
Rose. 

"  So  she  led  you  away,  did  she  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
"Waters,  giving  Rose  a  rough  shake. 

"  Yes,  she  wanted  me  to  go  after  an  organ,"  said 
Fanny,  seeing  a  way  to  screen  herself  at  the  expense 
of  her  companion,  and  like  a  mean  little  coward 
availing  herself  of  it. 

"  So  this  is  another  one  of  your  tricks,  miss,  is 
it?"  demanded  Mrs.  "Waters,  angrily. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       22^ 

"'  It  isn't  true,"  said  Rose.     "  She   asked  me   to 

"Oh,  no  doubt ;  you  can  lie  as  fast  as  you  can 
talk,"  said  Mrs.  Waters.  "  I  thought  all  the  while 
that  Fanny  was  too  good  a  girl  to  give  her  mother  so 
much  trouble.  It  was  only  to  oblige  you  that  she 
went  off.  That  comes  of  having  such  a  bad  girl  in 
the  family.  I  shan't  keep  j^ou  long,  for  you'll  be 
sure  to  spoil  my  Fanny,  who  was  one  of  the  best  lit- 
tle girls  in  the  neighborhood  till  you  came  to  lead 
her  into  mischief.  But  I'll  come  up  with  5^ou,  miss, 
you  may  depend  upon  that.  Your  father  told  me  I 
might  punish  you,  and  I  mean  to  do  it ;  just  wait  till 
wo  get  home,  that's  all." 

Here  Mrs.  Waters  paused  more  from  lack  of 
breath,  than  because  she  had  given  full  expression  to 
her  feelings.  She  relaxed  her  hold  upon  Fanny,  but 
continued  to  grasp  Rose  roughly  by  the  shoulder, 
dragging  her  rapidly  along. 

Rose  saw  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  defend  herself. 
Mrs.  Waters  was  determined  to  find  her  guilty,  and 
would  not  belie^ve  any  statement  she  might  make. 


224  ROUGH  AXD  ready;  or^ 

So  she  ran  along  to  adapt  herself  to  the  pace  of  the 
angry  woman  beside  her. 

They  soon  reached  the  house,  and  entered,  Mrs. 
Waters  pushing  Rose  before. 

"  New  for  your  punishment,"  said  Mrs.  Waters, 
griml}^,  "  I'm  going  to  lock  you  up  down  cellar." 

*'  Oil,  don't,"  said  Rose,  terrified.  "  I  don't  want  to 
go  down  in  the  dark  cellar ; "  for,  like  most  children, 
she  had  a  dread  of  darkness. 

But  Mrs.  Waters  was  inexorable.  She  opened  the 
door  of  the  cellar,  and  compelled  the  little  girl  to  de- 
scend the  dark  staircase.  Then  she  slammed  the 
door,  and  left  her  sobbing  on  the  lowest  step. 

Poor  Rose !  She  felt  that  she  had  indeed  fallen 
among  enemi<ss 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       22f 


CHAPTER  XX. 


HOW   BEN    SUCCEEDED. 


8sN  Gibson  was  very  willing  to  suspend  blacking 
boots  and  follow  in  the  tra.di  of  James  Martin, 
partly  because  he  consideied  it  easier  work,  but 
partly  also,  because  he  was  glad  to  be  of  service  to 
the  newsboy.  The  fact  v»as  that  Bough  and  Ready 
was  popular  among  the  Gtreet  boys  He  was  brave 
and  manly,  rough  with  those  who  tried  to  impose 
upon  him,  but  alwa3's  ready  to  do  a  favor  to  a  boy 
who  needed  it.  Ben  had  not  forgotten  how  two  win- 
ters before,  when  he  had  been  laid  up  wi^h  a  sickness 
brought  on  b}^  exposure,  Rufus  had  himself  contrib- 
uted liberally  to  help  him,  and  led  other  boys  to  fol- 
low his  example,  thus  defraying  his  expenses  until  he 
got  about  again.  A  kind  heart  will  make  its  posses- 
sor popular  sooner  than  anything  else,  and  it  wag 
this,  together  with  his  well-known  prowess,  which 
15 


226  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OJt^ 

made  Rough  and  Eeady  not  onl}^  popular,  but 
admired  in  the  circle  to  which  he  belonged. 

Ben  followed  James  Martin  down  Spruce  Street, 
keeping  sufficiently  in  the  background,  so  as  not  to 
excite  the  suspicions  of  the  latter. 

"  I  wonder  where  he*s  goin',"  ^  thought  Ben  ;  "  1 
don't  think  I  could  follow  him  more'n  a  hundred 
miles  without  wantin'  to  rest.  Anyhow  I  guess  I 
can  stand  it  as  well  as  he  can." 

Martin  walked  along  in  a  leisurely  manner.  The 
fact  was  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  not  to  work 
that  day,  and  therefore  he  felt  in  no  particular  hurry. 
This  was  rather  improvident  on  his  part,  since  he 
bad  voluntarily  assumed  the  extra  expense  of  sup- 
porting Rose ;  but  then  prudence  and  foresight  were 
not  his  distinouishinsj  tiaits.  He  had  a  vaGjp.e  idea 
that  the  world  owed  him  a  living,  and  that  he  would 
rub  along  somehow  or  other.  This  is  a  mischievous 
doctrine,  and  men  who  deserve  to  succeed  never  hold 
it.  It  is  true,  however,  that  the  world  is  pretty  sure 
to  provide  a  living  for  those  who  are  willing  to  work 
for  it,  but  makes  no  promises  to  those  who  expect 
to  be  token  care  of  without  any  exertions  of  their 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   lORK  NEWSBOYS.       227 

own.  The  difference  between  the  rich  merchant  and 
the  ragged  fellow  who  solicits  his  charity  as  he  is 
stepping  into  his  carriage,  consists,  frequent!}^,  not 
in  natural  abilitj^,  but  in  the  fact  that  the  one  has 
used  his  ability  as  a  stepping-stone  to  success,  and 
the  other  has  suffered  his  to  become  stagnant,  through 
Indolence,  or  dissipation. 

But  we  must  come  back  to  Mr.  Martin. 

He  walked  down  towards  the  East  River  till  he 
reached  Water  Street,  then  turning  to  the  left,  he 
brought  up  at  a  drinking-saloon,  which  he  had  vis- 
ited more  than  once  on  a  similar  errand.  He  found 
an  old  acquaintance  who  invited  him  to  drink,  —  au 
invitation  which  he  accepted  promptly. 

Ben  remained  outside. 

"  I  thought  he  did  business  at  some  such  place  by 
the  lookg  of  his  nose,"  soliloquized  Ben.  "  What 
shall  I  do  while  I'm  w^aitin'  for  him  ?  " 

Looking  around  him,  Ben  saw  two  boys  of  about 
his  own  age  pitching  pennies.  As  this  was  a  game 
with  which  long  practice  had  made  him  familiar,  bo 
made  overtures  towards  joining  them. 

"  Let  a  feller  in,  will  you?  "  he  said. 


228  HOUGH  AND  ready;  on, 

"  How  much  you  got?  "  asked  one  of  the  boys,  in 
a  business-like  way. 

"  Ten  cents,"  said  Ben.  "  I  lent  old  Vanderbilt 
most  of  my  money  da}^  afore  yesterday,  to  buy  up  a 
jiew  railroad,  and  he  haint  forked  over." 

Ben  need  not  have  apologized  for  liis  comparative 
povert}^,  as  he  proved  to  be  the  richest  of  the  three. 
The  game  commenced,  and  continued  for  some  time 
with  various  mutations  of  fortune  ;  but  at  the  end  of 
half  an  hour  Ben  found  himself  richer  by  two  cents 
than  when  he  had  commenced.  From  time  to  time 
he  cast  a  watchful  glance  at  the  saloon  opposite,  for 
he  had  no  intention  of  suffering  the  interest  of  the 
game  to  divert  him  from  the  object  of  his  expedition. 
At  length  he  saw  James  Martin  issue  from  the  saloon, 
and  prepared  to  follow  him. 

"Are  you  going?"  asked  one  of  the  bo3's  with 
whom  he  had  been  playing. 

*'  Yes,  I've  got  some  important  business  on  hand, 
Here's  3^our  money ; "  and  he  threw  down  the  two 
cents  he  bad  won. 

"You  won  it?" 

*' Wliat  if  I  did?    I  only  played  for  amoosemenu 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       229 

What's  two  cents  to  a  gentleman  of  fortune,  with  a 
big  man  shun  up  town?" 

"  It's  the  Tombs,  he  manes,"  said  one  of  his  lalcj 
opponents,  laughing. 

''  He  can  blow,  he  can,"  remarked  the  other. 

But  Ben  couldn't  stop  to  continue  the  conversation, 
as  James  Martin  had  alreacl}^  turned  the  corner  of  the 
street.  It  was  observable  that  his  gait  already 
showed  a  slight  unsteadiness,  which  he  tried  to  rem- 
edy by  walking  with  unusual  erectness.  The  conse- 
quence of  this  was  that  he  didn't  keep  fairly  in  view 
the  occupants  of  the  sidewalk,  which  led  to  his  de- 
liberately walking  into  rather  a  stout  female,  who 
was  approaching  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Is  it  goin'  to  murther  me  ye  are,  you  spalpeen?" 
she  exclaimed,  wrathfully,  as  soon  as  she  couid  col- 
lect her  breath.  *'  Don't  3'ou  know  better  than  to 
run  into  a  dacent  woman  in  that  way?" 

"  It  was  you  run  into  me,"  said  Martin,  stead^dng 
himself  with  some  difficulty  after  the  collision. 

"  Hear  him  now,"  said  the  woman,  looking  about 
her  to  call  attention  to  the  calumny. 


230  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

*'  I  see  how  it  is,"   said  Martin  ;    "  you're  drunk, 
ma'am,  j^ou  can't  walk  straight." 

This  led  to  a  voluble  outburst  from  the  irate  woman, 
to  which  Ben  listened  with  evident  enjoyment. 

''Am  I  drunk,  boy?"  asked  Martin,  appealing  to 
I  Ben,  whom  he  for  the  first  time  noticed. 
I    "  Of  course  you  aint,  gov'nor,"   said  Ben.      ''You 
lever  did  sich  a  thing  in  3'our  life." 

"  What   do  you   know   about  it  ? "  demanded   the 

>man.     "  It's  my  belief  you're  drunk  yourself." 

"  Do  3^ou  know  who  this  gentleman  is  ? "  asked 
Ben,  passing  over  the  personal  charge. 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  He's  President  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Temperance 
Society,"  said  Ben,  impressively.  "  He's  just  been 
drinkiqg  the  health  of  his  feller-officers  in  a  glass  of 
something  stifi",  round  in  Water  Street,  that's  all." 

The  woman  sniffed  contemptuousl}^,  but,  not  deign- 
ing a  reply,  passed  on. 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  Martin,  turning  to  Ben. 
"You're  a  good  feller." 

"That's  so,"  said  Ben.  "That's  what  everybody 
Bays." 


LIFE   AMONG    THR   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       23? 

"  So'm  I  a  good  feller,"  said  Martin,  whose  re- 
cent potations  must  have  been  of  considerable 
strength,  to  judge  from  their  effects.  *'  You  know 
me." 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  said  Ben.  *'  I've  knowed  you 
from  infancy." 

"Take  a  drink?"  said  Martin. 

"Not  at  present,"  said  Ben.  "My  health  don't, 
require  it  this  mornin'." 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Well,"  said  Ben,  "I  aint  very  particular.  I'm 
a  wealthy  orphan,  with  nothiu'  to  do.  I'll  walk  along 
'vith  you,  if  it's  agreeable." 

I  wish  you  would,"  said  Martin  ;  "  I  aint  feeling 
quite  well  this  morning.     I've  got  the  headache." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that,"  thought  Ben.  "  I'll 
accompany  you  to  your  residence,  if  it  aint  too  far 
off." 

"  I  live  in  Brooklyn,"  said  Martin. 

"Oho!"  thought  Ben.  "Well,  that  information 
J8  worth  something.  Shall  we  go  over  Fulton  Fer- 
ry?"  he  asked,  aloud. 

"  Yes,"  said  Martin. 


232  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OH, 

"Take  hold  of  my  arm,  and  I'll  support  your 
totterin*  steps,"  said  Ben. 

Mr.  Martin,  who  found  locomotion  in  a  straight 
line  rather  difficult  on  account  of  his  headache, 
willingly  availed  himself  of  this  obliging  offer, 
and  the  two  proceeded  on  their  way  to  Fulton 
Ferry. 

"Have  you  got  much  of  a  family?"  inquired 
Ben,  by  way  of  being  sociable. 

"Tve  got  a  little  girl,"  said  Martin,  "  and  a  boy, 
but  he*s  an  impudent  young  rascal." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"Rufus.  He  sells  newspapers  in  front  of  the 
'Times'  office." 

"The  boys  call  him  Rough  and  Read}^  don't 
they?" 

"Yes.  Do  you  know  him?"  asked  Martin,  a 
little  suspiciousl3^  "  He  aint  a  friend  of  yours, 
is  he?" 

"  I  owe  him  a  lickin',"  said  Ben,  with  a  show  of 
indignation. 

"So  do  I,"  said  Martin.  "He's  an  impudent 
young  rascal." 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       233 

"  So  he  is/*  obimcd  in  Ben.  **  I'll  tell  3^011  what 
Fd  do,  if  I  were  you." 

"What?" 

"  I'd  disinherit  him.  Cut  him  off  with  a  shil- 
lin'." 

"I  mean  to,"  said  Martin,  pleased  to  find  sym- 
pathy in  his  dislike  to  his  stepson. 

Probably  the  newsboy  would  not  have  suffered 
acute  anguish,  had  he  learned  his  stepfather's  in- 
tention to  disinherit  him,  as  the  well-known  lines, 
"  Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash,"  might  at  al- 
most any  time  have  been  appropriately  applied  to 
Mr.  Martin's  purse,  when  he  happened  to  carry 
one. 

Ben  paid  the  toll  at  the  ferry,  and  the  two  en- 
tered the  boat  together.  He  conducted  Mr.  Martin 
to  the  Gentleman's  Cabin,  where  he  found  him  a 
seat  in  the  corner.  James  Martin  sank  down,  and 
closed  his  ej^es  in  a  drowsy  fit,  produced  by  the 
liquor  he  had  drunk. 

Ben  took  a  seat  opposite  him. 

'*■  You're  an  interestin*  object,"  soliloquized  Ben, 
as   he  looked   across   the   cabin   at  his   companion. 


234  EOVGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

*'It*s  a  great  blessin'  to  be  an  orphan,  if  a  fcllci 
can't  own  a  better  father  than  that.  However,  I'll 
stick  to  him  till  I  get  him  home.  I  wonder  what 
he'd  say  if  he  knowed  what  I  was  goin'  with  him 
for.  If  things  don't  go  contrary,  I  guess  I'll  get 
the  little  girl  away  from  him  afore  long." 

When  the  boat  struck  the  Brooklyn  pier,  James 
Martin  was  asleep. 

"  There  aint  no  hurry,"  thought  Ben ;  "  I'll  let 
him  sleep  a  little  w^hile." 

After  the  boat  had  made  three  or  four  trips, 
Ben  went  across  and  shook  Martin  gentl3% 

The  latter  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  him 
vacantly. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  said,  thickly. 

"  We've  got  to  Brooklyn,"  said  Ben.  "  If  j'ou 
want  to  go  home,  w^e'U  have  to  go  off  the  boat." 

James  Martin  rose  mechanicallj^  and,  walking 
through  the  cabin,  passed  out  upon  the  pier,  and 
then  through  the  gates. 

"Where'U  we  go  now?"  asked  Ben.  "Is  it  far 
off?" 

"Yes,  said  Martin.     "We'll  take  a  horse-car." 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       235 

"  All  right,  gov'nor ;  just  tell  us  what  one  we 
want,  and  we'll  jump  aboard." 

Martin  was  sufficiently  in  his  senses  to  be  able 
to  impart  this  information  correctly.  He  made  no 
objection  to  Ben's  paying  the  fare  for  both,  which 
the  latter  did,  as  a  matter  of  policy,  thinking  that 
in  his  present  friendly  relations  with  Mr.  Martin  he 
was  likely  to  obtain  the  information  he  desired, 
with  considerably  less  difficulty  than  he  anticipated. 
On  the  whole,  Ben  plumed  himself  on  his  success, 
and  felt  that  as  a  detective  he  had  done  very 
well. 

Martin  got  out  at  the  proper  place,  and  Ben  of 
course  got  out  with  him. 

"  That's  where  I  live,"  said  Martin,  pointing  to  t;ne 
house.     "  "Won't  you  go  in?  " 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment,"  said  Ben  ;  "  but 
I've  got  some  important  business  to  attend  to,  and 
shall  have  to  be  goin'.     How's  your  headache  ?  " 

"  It's  better,"  said  Martin. 

*'  Glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Ben. 

Martin,  on  entering  the  house,  was  informed  >f 
the  ill-conduct  of  Rose,  as  Mrs.  Waters  chose  to  i^p 


236  ROVGR  AND  READY;    OR^ 

resent  it,  and  that  in  consequence  she  had  been  shut 
up  in  the  cellar. 

"  Keep  her  there  as  long  as  yow  like,"  said  Mar- 
tin. "She's  a  bad  girl,  and  it  won't  do  her  any 
harm." 

If  Hose  had  known  that  an  agent  of  her  brother's 
was  just  outside  the  house,  and  was  about  to  carry 
back  to  Eufus  tidings  of  her  whereabouts,  she  would 
have  felt  cousideraV  ly  better.  There  is  an  old  saying 
that  the  hour  which  is  darkest  is  just  before  day. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBCYS.       237 


CHAPTER  XXI 


IN   AN    OYSTER    SALOON. 


Rough  iND  Ready  had  just  laid  in  a  supply  of 
arternoon  papers,  and  resumed  his  usual  position  id 
front  of  the  "  Times"  office,  when  Ben  Gibson  came 
round  the  corner,  just  returned  from  his  expedition  to 
Brooklyn,  the  particulars  of  which  are  given  in  the 
last  chapter. 

"What  luck,  Ben?"  asked  the  newsboy,  anx- 
iously. 

"Tip-top,"  said  Ben. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you've  found  her?"  said 
Rough  and  Ready,  eagerly. 

"Yes,  I  have,  —  leastways  I've  found  where  she's 
kept." 

"  Tell  me  about  it.     How  did  you  manage? " 

"  I  followed  your  respected  father  down  Spruce 
Street,"  said  Ben.  "He  stopped  to  take  a  little 
somethinor  stronor  in  AYater  vStreet*  which  made  hiiu 


238  ItOVGR   AND   ready;    ORy 

rather  top-heavy.  I  offered  him  my  protection,  which 
he  thankful!}^  accepted  ;  so  we  went  home  together  as 
intimate  as  brothers." 

"  Did  he  suspect  anything?" 

"  Not  a  bit ;  I  told  him  I  know'd  you,  and  owed 
you  a  lickin',  which  impressed  his  affectionate  heart 
very  favorably.     When'll  you  take  it?" 

"What?" 

"  The  lickin'." 

"  Not  at  present,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  laugh- 
ing.    "  I  guess  it'll  keep." 

"  All  right.  An}'  time  3'ou  want  it,  just  let  me 
know." 

" Go  ahead.     Where  does  he  live?" 

"  In  Brooklyn.  We  went  over  Fulton  Ferry,  and 
then  took  the  horse-cars  a  conple  of  miles.  I  paid 
the  old  chap's  fare." 

*'  I'll  make  it  right  with  you.     Did  \'ou  see  Rose?" 

*'  No  ;  but  I'll  remember  the  house." 

"  Ben,  j^ou're  a  trump.  I  was  afraid  3'ou  wouldn't 
succeed.  Now  tell  me  when  I  had  better  go  for  her  ? 
Shall  it  be  to-night?" 

"  No,"  said  Ben  ;  "  he'll  be  at  home  to-uiiii't.     Be- 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       23S 

Bides,  she  won*t  be  allowed  to  come  out.  If  wo  go 
over  to-morrow,  we  may  meet  her  walkin'  out  some- 
where.    Then  we  can  carr}^  her  off  without  any  fuss." 

'*  I  don't  know  but  you're  right,"  said  the  newsboy, 
thoughtfully  ;  "  but  it  is  hard  to  wait.  I'm  afraid  she 
won't  be  treated  well,  poor  little  Rose  1 " 

Rufus  proposed  to  go  over  in  the  evening  and  re- 
connoitre, but  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  he  were  seen 
and  recognized  by  Mr.  Martin,  the  latter  would  be  on 
his  guard,  and  perhaps  remove  her  elsewhere,  or  keep 
her  so  strictly  guarded  that  there  would  be  no  oppor- 
tunit}^  of  reclaiming  her.  He  was  forced,  therefore, 
to  iMiit  with  what  patience  he  might  till  the  next 
morning.  He  went  round  to  tell  Miss  Manning  of 
his  success.  She  s^^mpathized  heartily  with  him, 
for  she  had  felt  an  anxiety  nearly  as  great  as  his 
own  as  to  the  fate  of  the  little  girl  w^hose  presence 
had  lighted  up  her  now  lonely  room  with  sunshine. 

After  spending  a  portion  of  the  evening  with  her, 
he  came  out  again  into  the  streets.  It  was  his  usual 
time  for  going  to  the  Lodging  House ;  but  he  felt 
restless  and  wakeful,  and  preferred  instead  to  wander 
about  the  stieets. 


240  ROUGH  AND   READY;    Off, 

At  ten  o'clock  he  felt  the  promptings  of  appetite, 
and,  passing  an  oyster  saloon,  determined  to  go  in 
and  order  a  stew. 

It  was  not  a  very  fashionable  place.  There  was  a 
general  air  of  dinginess  and  lack  of  neatness  pervad- 
ing the  place.  The  apartment  was  small,  and  low- 
studded.  On  one  side  was  a  bar,  on  the  other,  two 
or  three  small  compartments  provided  with  tables, 
with  curtains  screening  them  from  the  main  room. 

It  was  not  a  very  inviting  place,  but  the  newsboy, 
though  more  particular  than  most  of  his  class,  re- 
flected that  the  oj^sters  might  nevertheless  be  good. 

"  Give  us  a  stew,"  he  said  to  a  j^oung  man  behind 
the  counter,  whose  countenance  was  ornamented  with 
pimples. 

*'  All  right.     Anj'thing  to  drink?" 

"  No  sir,"  said  our  hero. 

Rufus  entered  the  only  one  of  the  alcoves  which 
was  unoccupied.  The  curtains  of  the  other  two  were 
drawn.  The  one  which  he  selected  was  the  middle 
one  of  three,  so  that  what  was  going  on  in  both 
was  audible  to  him.     The  one  in  front  appeared  to 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       24 J 

have  a  solitaiy  occupant,  and  nothing  was  heard  from 
it  but  the  clatter  of  a  knife  and  fork. 

But  there  were  evidently  two  persons  in  the  other, 
for  Rufus  was  able  to  make  out  a  low  conversation 
which  was  going  on  between  them.  The  first  words 
were  heard  with  difficulty,  but  afterwards,  either  be- 
cause they  spoke  louder  or  because  his  ear  got  more 
accustomed  to  the  sounds,  he  made  out  ever3^thing. 

"  You  are  sure  about  the  money,  Jim,"  said  one. 

"  Yes." 

"  How  do  you  know  it?  " 

"  Never  mind  how  I  know  it.  It  makes  no  odds 
as  long  as  he's  got  it,  and  we  a::e  going  to  take  it." 

"  That's  the  main  thing.  Now  tell  me  your 
plans." 

"  He'll  be  going  home  about  half-past  eleven,  some-    1 
where  from  there  to  twelve,  and  we  mast  lie  in  wait 
for  him.     It's  a  cool  thousand,  that'll  be   five   hun-      ! 
dred  apiece."  \ 

"  I  need  it  bad  enough,  for  I'm  dead  broke." 

'  So  am  I.     Got  down  to  my  last  dollar,  and  no 

chance  of  another,  unless  this    little    plan    of   ours 

works." 

16 


242  HOUGH  AND  ready;  ok, 

"  It's  dangerous." 

"  Of  course  there's  a  risk.  There  won't  be  any 
time  to  lose.  The  policeman's  got  a  long  beat.  We 
must  make  the  attack  when  he's  out  of  the  way. 
There'll  be  no  time  to  parley." 

"If  he  resist  —  " 

"Knock  him  on  the  head.  A  minute'U  'be 
enough." 

There  was  some  further  conversation  carried  on  in 
a  low  voice,  from  which  the  newsbo}^,  who  listened 
with  attention,  gathered  full  particulars  of  the  medi- 
tated attack.  It  appears  that  the  intended  victim  of 
the  plot  was  a  AVall  Street  broker,  who  was  likely  to 
be  out  late  in  the  evening  with  a  considerable  sum 
of  money  about  him.  How  the  two  desperadoes  con- 
cerned in  the  plot  had  obtained  this  information  did 
not  appear.  This,  however,  is  not  necessary  to  tliG 
comprehension  of  the  story.  Enough  that  they  had 
intended  to  make  criminal  use  of  that  knowledge. 

"AVhat  shall  I  do?"  thouglit  the  newsboy,  wheu 
by  careful  listening  he  arrived  at  a  full  comprehension 
of  the  plot  in  all  its  details.  "  There'll  be  robbery, 
and  perhaps  murder  done  unless  I  iatcrfere." 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       24.^ 

It  required  some  courage  to  do  anything.  The  men 
were  not  onl}^  his  superiors  in  physical  strength,  but 
they  were  doubtless  armed,  and  ready,  if  interfered 
with,  to  proceed  to  extremities.  But  the  newsboy 
had  one  of  those  strong  and  hardy  natures  to  which 
fear  is  a  stranger,  —  at  least  so  far  as  his  own  safety 
wtis  concerned.  This  proceeded  from  his  strength 
and  physical  vigor,  and  entire  freedom  from  that  ner- 
vousness which  often  accompanies  a  more  fragile 
organization. 

"  I'll  stop  it  if  I  can,"  he  decided,  promptly,  with- 
out a  thought  of  the  risk  he  might  incur. 

One  circumstance  might  interfere:  they  might 
leave  the  saloon  before  he  w^as  ready  to  do  so,  and 
thus  he  would  lose  track  of  them.  Unfortunatel}^,  the 
place  where  the  atta.ck  was  to  be  made  had  not  yet 
been  mentioned.  But  he  was  relieved  of  this  appre- 
hension when  he  heard  the  curtain  drawn  aside,  and 
a  fresh  order  given  to  the  waiter.  At  that  moment 
his  own  stew  was  brought,  and  placed  on  the  tabiA 
before  him. 

"  I  shall  get  through  as  soon  as  they  do,"  thought 


244  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR^ 

Rufus.     '*  There  vrill  bo  iiothiDg  to  hinder  my  follow* 
mg  them." 

After  finishiug  his  own  03'sters,  he  waited  until  his 
neighbors,  who  were  more  deliberate,  were  ready  to  go 
out.  When  he  heard  their  departure,  he  also  drew  the 
curtain,  and  stepped  into  the  room.  He  took  care  not 
to  look  too  closel}^  at  them,  but  one  quick  glance  da- 
guerreotyped  their  features  in  his  memory.  One  was 
a  short,  stout  man,  with  a  heavy  face  and  lowering 
expression  ;  the  other  was  taller  and  slighter,  with  a 
face  less  repulsive.  The  former,  in  rushing  into 
crime,  appeared  to  be  following  the  instincts  of  a 
brutal  nature.  The  other  looked  as  if  he  might  have 
been  capable  of  better  things,  had  circumstances  been 
different. 

The  two  exchanged  a  look  when  the}^  saw  the  news- 
boy coming  out  of  the  compartment  adjoining  their 
own,  as  if  to  inquire  whether  he  was  likely  to  have 
heard  any  of  their  conversation.  But  Rufus  assumed 
Buch  an  indifferent  and  unconcerned  an  expression, 
that  their  suspicions,  if  the}'  had  an}',  were  dispelled, 
and  they  took  no  further  notice  of  him. 

They  settled  for  what  they  had    eaten,   and    tho 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       245 

Df^wsbo}',  hastil^^  throwing  down  the  exact  change  for 
his  oysters,  followed  them  out. 

The}^  turned  up  a  side  street,  conversing  still  in  a 
low  tone.  Rufus,  though  appearing  indifferent,  lis- 
tened intently.  At  length  he  heard  what  he  had 
been  anxious  to  hear,  —  the  scene  of  the  intended 
attack. 

The  information  gave  him  this  important  advan- 
tage: He  was  no  longer  under  the  necessity  of 
dogging  the  steps  of  the  two  men,  which,  if  persisted 
in,  would  have  been  likely  to  attract  their  attention 
and  arouse  their  suspicions.  He  was  able  now  to  leave 
them.  All  that  would  be  necessary  was  to  be  on  the 
spot  at  the  time  mentioned,  or  a  little  earlier.  But 
what  preparations  should  he  make?  For  a  boy  to 
think  of  engaging  single-handed  with  two  ruflSans  was 
of  course  foolhardy.  Yet  it  was  desirable  that  he 
should  have  a  weapon  of  some  kind.  Here,  however, 
there  was  a  difficulty,  as  there  were  no  shops  prob 
ably  open  at  that  hour,  where  he  could  provide  him 
self  with  what  he  desired. 

While  considering  with  some  perplexity  what  ho 


246  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

should  do,  he  came  across  Tim  Graves,  a  fellow 
newsboy,  carrj'ing  iu  his  hand  a  bat. 

"  How  are  j^ou,  Tim? "  he  said. 

"  I'm  so's  to  be  round.     Where  are  j'ou  going?" 

"  Up-town  on  an  errand.  Where'd  jou  get  that 
bat?" 

"I  was  up  to  the  Park  to  see  a  base-ball  matcb^ 
and  picked  it  up." 

"  What'll  you  take  for  it?" 

"Want  to  buy?" 

"  Yes." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Tim,  hesitating.  "It's 
worth  a  quarter." 

"  All  right.     Give  it  here." 

"  What  do  you  want  it  for?" 

"  Somebody  might  attack  me  for  my  monc}","  said 
Rufus.     "  If  .he}^  do,  I'll  give  'em  a  rap  with  this." 

The  money  was  paid  over,  and  the  bat  changed 
owners.  It  was  heav}^,  aiftl  of  hard  wood,  and  in  the 
hands  even  of  a  boy  might  prove  a  formidable 
weapon. 


LIFE    AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       247 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


RESCUE. 


Abmed  with  the  bat,  Rufus  took  his  way  up-town. 
As  the  distance  was  considerable,  he  jumped  on 
board  a  horse-car.  The  conductor,  noticing  the  bat, 
asked  him  whether  he  was  going  to  play  a  game  by 
moonlight. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  newsboy.  "  I  belong  to  a  club 
called  'The  Owls,*  We  can  play  best  in  the 
dark." 

He  got  out  of  the  car  at  the  point  nearest  to  the 
place  which  he  had  heard  mentioned  as  the  probable 
scene  of  attack,  and  walked  cautiously  towards  it.  He 
had  no  doubt  of  being  in  full  time,  for  it  was  not^yet 
half-past  eleven.  But  circumstances  had  hastened 
the  attack ;  so  that,  as  he  turned  the  corner  of  a  quiet 
side  street,  he  was  startled  by  seeing  a  gentleman 
struggling  desperately  in  the  hands  of  two  ruffians. 


248  HOUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

lie  saw  at  a  glance  that  they  were  the  same  he  had 
overheard  in  the  oyster  saloon. 

The  gentleman  appeared  to  be  overpowered,  for  he 
was  on  the  ground,  with  one  man  clutching  his  throat 
to  prevent  his  giving  the  alarm,  while  the  other  was 
rifling  his  pockets. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose. 

The  newsboy  darted  forward,  and  before  the 
villains  were  aware  that  their  plans  were  menaced 
by  defeat,  he  brought  down  tlie  bat  with  force  upon 
the  back  of  the  one  who  had  his  victim  by  the  throat. 
The  bat,  wielded  b}^  the  vigorous  hand  of  Kough  and 
Ready,  fell  with  terrible  emphasis  upon  the  form  of 
the  bending  ruffian.  He  released  his  hold  with  a 
sharp  cry  of  pain,  and  fell  back  on  the  sidewalk. 
His  companion  looked  up,  but  only  in  time  to 
receive  an  equally  forcible  blow  on  his  shoulder^ 
which  compelled  him  also  to  desist  from  his  pur- 
pose. 

At  the  same  time  the  voice  of  the  newsboy  rang 
out  clear  and  loud  on  the  night  air:  "Help! 
Police  1 " 

He  sprang  to  the  side  of  the  prostrate  irentlomnn. 


1.IFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       243 

saying,  "  Get  up  at  once,  sir.     We'll  defeat  tliesG 
villains  3'et." 

The  gentleman  sprang  to  bis  feet,  and  prepared  to 
do  his  part  in  resisting  an  attack ;  but  none  was 
apparentl}^  intended.  The  man,  who  bad  been 
struck  in  the  badv,  was  not  in  a  position  to  do 
anything,  but  la}^  groaning  with  pam,  while  the 
other  did  not  think  it  expedient  to  continue  tlie 
attack  under  the  changed  aspect  of  affairs.  Besides, 
the  newsboj^'s  cry  for  help  was  likely  to  bring  the 
police,  so  that  the  only  thing  left  was  to  effect  an 
immediate  escaps. 

He  paused  but  an  instant  before  making  hi'! 
decision ;  but  that  instant  nearly  destroyed  hin 
chance.  The  policeman,  who  had  heard  the  cry  foi 
help,  turned  the  corner  hastily,  and  at  once  mad  3 
chase.  But  by  exerting  all  his  strength  the  fellow 
managed  to  escape.  The  policeman  returned,  an;? 
began  to  inquire  into  the  circumstances  of  th;> 
attack. 

"How   did    this    happen,   Mr.   Turner?"   he   in 
quired  of  the  gentleman,  whom  he  recognized. 

"  Those  two  villains  attacked  me,"  said  the  gentle- 


250  rough:  and  ready;  cr, 

mail)  "  just  as  I  turned  the  corner.  They  must  have 
learned  that  I  was  likely  to  have  a  considerable  sum 
of  money  about  me,  and  were  planning  to  secure  it. 
Their  attaciv  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  tha 
Ihey  would  have  accomplished  their  object  but  fOx 
this  brave  boy." 

"  Curse  him  ! "  said  the  prostrate  burglar,  who  wa3 
ythe  shorter  of  the  two.      "I  saw  him  in  the  oyster 
/  saloon.      He  must  have  heard  what  I  and  my  pal 
^   were  saying,  and  followed  us." 

"  Did  you  know  anything  of  this  intended  rob- 
bery?" asked  the  policeman. 

*'  Yes,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  "the  man  is  right. 
I  did  overhear  him  and  the  other  man  planning  it. 
We  were  in  an  oj^ster  saloon  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
city.  I  was  in  one  of  the  little  rooms,  and  thej^  in 
the  other.  They  were  talking  it  over  in  a  low  voice  ; 
but  I  overheard  the  whole.  As  soon  as  I  heard  it,  I 
determined  to  stop  it  if  I  could.  I  had  no  weapon 
with  me,  but  was  lucky  enough  to  buy  this  bat  of  a 
boy  I  met,  and  came  up  at  once.  I  came  near  not 
being  in  time." 

*'  Let  me  see  the  bat,"  said  the  policeman. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       251 

'•It's  a  tough  customer,"  he  said,  weighing  it  in 
his  hand ;  "  you  settled  one  of  the  parties,  at  any 
rate." 

'•'■  Curse  him !  "  muttered  the  burglar  once  more. 

"  Come,  my  man,"  said  the  policeman,  "  you  must 
go  with  me.  The  city  provides  accommodations  foi 
such  as  you," 

"  I  can't  get  up,"  he  groaned. 

"I  guess  you  can  if  you  ivy.  You  can't  lie  here, 
you  know." 

After  some  delay  the  man  rose  sullenly,  groaning 
meanwhile. 

"  My  back  is  broken,"  he  said. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  newsboy,  who  was  moved 
with  pity  for  the  burglar,  bad  as  he  was. 

"  Don't  pit}^  him  too  much,"  said  the  policeman; 
•*  he  deserves  what  he's  got." 

''I'll  pay  you  off  some  time,  boy,  curse  you ! "  said 
the  injured  man,-  with  a  vindictive  glance  at  Rufus. 
"  I'll  give  you  as  good  as  j^ou  gave." 

"  It'll  be  some  time  before  3'ou  get  a  chance,"  said 
the  policeman.  "  You'll  got  a  five  years  ir*  Su)g 
Sing  for  this  job." 


252  ROUGH  AND  READY;    OR, 

He  marclied  off  with  the  culprit,  and  Rougli  antl 
/      Read}''  was  left  alone  with  Mr.  Turner. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  j^ou,  ru}^  brave  bo}', 
for  3'our  timely  assistance,"  he  said,  grasping  the 
hand  of  the  newsboj''. 

"  I  don't  need  any  thanks,  sir,"  said  Rufus. 

"  You  may  not  need  anj^,  but  j'ou  deserve  them 
richly.     Are  you  far  from  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  I  can  take  the  horse-cars." 

"  Where  do  3'ou  live  ?  " 

"  At  the  Newsboys'  Lodging  House." 

"Are  you  a  newsboy?"  asked  Mr.  Turner,  with 
interest. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  you  parents  living?" 

"  No,  sir,  except  a  stepfather  ;  but  he's  a  drunkard, 
and  I  don't  live  with  him." 

*•  Have  3'ou  any  brothers  or  sisters?" 

"  A  little  sister,  about  seven  years  old." 

"  Does  she  live  with  your  stepfather?" 

"I  took  her  away,  but  Mr.  Martin  found  oa* 
where  I  had  placed  her,  and  he  managed  to  get  liold 
of  her.     I  found  out  to-day  whore  lie  cnrriod  )>^r,  ind 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       253 

to-morrow  I  shall  try  to  get  her  back.  He  isn't  a  fit 
man  to  have  the  charge  of  her." 

"  And  can  you  support  your  little  sister,  and  your- 
self too?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  are  a  good  brother,  and  I  believe  you  are  a 
good  boy.  I  want  to  know  more  of  you.  It. is  too 
late  to  go  to  the  Newsboys*  Lodging  House  to-night. 
I  live  close  by,  and  will  take  you  home  with  me." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Rough  and  Ready,  bash- 
fully, "  but  I  don't  want  to  trouble  you  so  mucn." 

"  There  will  be  no  trouble,  and  I  owe  something  to 
a  boy  who  has  rendered  me  such  a  service.  Besides, 
Mrs.  Turner  will  want  to  see  3'ou." 

The  newsboy  knew  not  what  further  objections  to 
make,  and,  indeed,  Mr.  Turner  gave  him  no  time  to 
think  of  any,  for,  placing  his  arm  in  his,  he  drew  him 
along.     His  home  was  in  the  next  block. 

As  Rufus  ascended  the  steps,  he  saw  that  it  was 
of  fine  appearance,  and  a  new  fit  of  bashfulness 
seized  him.  He  wished  himself  in  his  accustomed 
bed  at  the  Newsboys*  Lodging  House.  There  he 
would  be  under  no  constraint.     Now  he  was  about  to 


i54  ROUGH   AND   READY;    OH, 

enter  a  home  where  customs  prevailed  of  which  he 
knew  nothing.  But,  whatever  his  feelings  were, 
there  was  no  chance  to  draw  back.  Besides,  the  al- 
ternative was  between  accepting  Mr.  Turner's  invita- 
tion, and  sleeping  in  the  streets,  for  punctually  at 
twelve  o'clock  the  Lodging  House  closes,  and  it 
would  be  later  than  this  before  he  could  reach  there. 

Mr.  Tui'ner  drew  out  a  night-key,  and  opened  the 
front  door. 

The  hall  was  dimly  lighted,  for  the  gas  was  par- 
tially shut  off.  Still  the  newsboy  could  see  that  it 
was  handsomely  furnished.  How  it  compared  with 
other  houses  up-town  he  could  not  tell,  for  this  was 
the  first  he  had  entered. 

"  The  servants  have  gone  to  bed,'*  said  Mr. 
Turner ;  "  I  never  require  them  to  sit  up  after 
eleven.  I  will  myself  show  you  the  room  where 
you  are  to  sleep.  Your  hat  you  may  leave 
here." 

According  to  directions,  Rufus  hung  up  his  hat 
on  the  hat-stand.  He  congratulated  himself,  ds  he 
did  so,  that  he  liad  only  bought  it  the  week  I ^ fore, 
80  that   its   appearance   Avould   do  him  no  diii.  rndit 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       255 

Indeed  his  whole  suit,  though  coarse,  was  whole,  and 
not  soiled,  for  he  paid  greater  attention  to  dress 
than  most  bo^^s  in  his  line  of  business.  This  was 
due  partly  to  a  natural  instinct  of  neatness,  but 
partly  also  to  the  training  he  had  received  from  hia 
mother,  who  had  been  a  neat  woman. 

"Now  come  upstairs  with  me,  Rufus,"  said  Mr. 
Turner,  who  had  made  himself  acquainted  with  our 
hero's  name.  "  I  will  ask  you  to  step  softly,  that  we 
may  wake  no  one.'* 

The  thick  carpet  which  covered  the  stairs  ren 
Jered  it  easy  to  follow  this  direction. 

"  One  more  flight,"  said  Mr.  Turner,  at  the  first 
landing. 

He  paused  before  a  door  on  the  third  floor,  and 
opened  it. 

Rufus  followed  him  into  a  large  and  handsomely 
furnished  bedchamber,  containing  a  bed  large 
enough  for  three,  as  the  newsboy  thought. 

"  I  think  you  will  find  everything  you  need,'*  said 
tlie  master  of  the  house,  casting  a  rapid  glance 
around.  "I  hope  3'ou  will  have  a  comfortable 
niglit's  rest.     We  have  breakfast  at  half-past  seven 


256  ROUGH  AND  READY;    OR, 

D'clock.     The  bell  will  ring  to  awake   3'ou   half  an 
hour  earlier." 

"  I  think  I  won't  stop  to  breakfast,"  said  Rough 
and  Ready,  bashfull^^ ;  "  thank  you,  sir,  for  the  invi- 
tation." 

"  You  mustn't  think  of  going  away  before  brealc- 
fast,"  said  Mr.  Turner  ;  "  I  wish  to  talk  with  you,  and 
my  wife  will  wish  to  see  you." 

"But,"  said  the  newsboy,  still  anxious  to  get 
away,  "  I  ought  to  be  down-town  early  to  get  my 
papers." 

"  Let  them  go  one  morning.  I  will  take  care  that 
you  lose  nothing  by  it.  You  wil]  find  a  brush  and 
comb  on  the  bureau.  And  now,  good-night.  I  am 
tired,  and  I  have  no  doubt  3'OU  are  also." 

"  Good-night,  sir." 

The  door  closed,  and  the  newsboy  was  left  alone 
It  had  come  so  rapidly  upon  him,  that  he  could 
hardly  realize  the  novel  circumstances  in  whicii  he 
was  placed.  lie,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  tlie 
humble  lodgings  appropriated  to  his  class,  found  him- 
self a  welcome  guest  in  a  handsome  mansion  up-town. 
He  undressed  himself  quickly,  and,  shutting  oil  the 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       257 

gas,  jumped  into  bed.     He  found   it  very  soft   and 

comfortable,  and,  being  already  fatigued,  did  not  long 

remain  awake,  as  he  glided  unconsciouslj^  into  ►s^-^m- 

ber,  wondering  vaguely  what  Ben  Gibson  woulJ  say 

if  he  knew  where  ne  was  spendift^  the  night. 
V 


258  HOUGH  AND  beady:  om^ 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 


NEW   FRIENDS. 


RuFUS  slept  so  soundl}^,  that  his  slumber  was  only 
ftnded  bj^  the  sound  of  the  warning  bell,  at  seven  in 
the  morning. 

*'  Where  am  I?"  he  thought  in  bewilderment,  as, 
opening  his  eyes,  his  first  glance  took  in  the  appoint- 
ments of  the  bedchamber. 

Recollections  quickly  came  to  his  aid,  and,  spring- 
ing out  of  bed,  he  began  to  dress. 

His  feelings  were  rather  mixed.  He  wished  that 
he  could  glide  softly  downstairs,  and  out  of  the 
house,  without  stopping  to  breakfast.  But  this  would 
not  do,  since  Mr.  Turner  had  expressly  requested 
him  to  sta}'.  But  he  dreaded  meeting  the  rest  of  the 
family  at  the  breakfast-table.  He  was  afraid  that  he 
wouldn't  know  how  to  act  in  such  unwonted  circum- 
stances, for,  though  bold  enough,  and  ready  enough  in 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       259 

the  company  of  bo}' s  and  out  in  the  street,  he  felt 
bashful  in  his  present  position. 

He  dressed  himself  slowl}",  and,  finding  a  clothes- 
brush,  brushed  his  clothes  carefully.  He  arranged 
his  hair  neatly  at  the  glass,  which,  though  the  news 
boy  was  not  vain  enough  to  suspect  it,  reflected  the 
face  and  figure  of  a  very  attractive,  and  handsome 
boy. 

"When  his  preparations  were  all  completed,  he  sat 
down  in  some  perplexity.  Should  he  go  downstairs  ? 
He  decided  not  to  do  so,  for  he  did  not  know  his  way 
to  the  room  where  the  family  ate  breakfast. 

"  I  will  wait  till  1  hear  the  bell,"  he  thought. 

He  had  to  wait  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  feeling  some- 
what nervous  the  while. 

At  length  the  bell  rang,  and  Rufus  knew  that  it 
was  time  to  go  downstairs.  He  looked  upon  it  as 
rather  a  trying  ordeal,  considering  that  he  knew  only 
the  head  of  the  family.  Just  as  he  was  preparing  to 
leave  the  room,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  a  boy 
often  entered  impetuously, 

"Breaivfast's  ready,"  he  said  ;  "Pa-pa  sent  me  up  to 
show  you  the  way." 


260  ROUGH  AND   READY;    ORj 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Rufus. 

''  What's  your  name? " 

"  Rufus." 

"  There's  a  boy  in  my  class  at  school  named  ftu« 
fus,  but  he  don't  look  much  like  you.  Where's  the 
bat  you  knocked  the  robber  down  with  ?  " 

"  Here,"  said  the  newsboy,  smiling. 

"I  guess  you  gave  him  a  crack,  didn't  you?  I 
wouldn't  like  to  get  hit  with  it.  Do  you  play  base 
ball?" 

"Not  much." 

"  What  do  you  want  a  bat  for,  then?" 

"  To  knock  robbers  down,"  said  Rufus,  smiling. 

"  I  belong  to  a  base-ball  club  at  school.  We  call 
it  the  "  Sea-Birds."  We  go  up  to  the  Park  once  a 
Tveek  and  pla3\" 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  breakfast-room. 
Mr.  Turner,  who  was   already  down,   advanced   t 
meet  our  hero,  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"Did  you  sleep  well,  Rufus?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  only  waked  up  when  the  bell 
rung." 

"  It  was  late  when  we  retired.     Louisa,  my  dear, 


LIFE  AMONG  THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.  26l 

this  is  the  j^oung  lad  who  bravely  came  to  my  rescue 
when  I  was  assaulted  by  two  robbers." 

Mrs.  Turner,  who  was  a  pleasant-looking  lady, 
took  his  hand  cordially.  "  I  am  very  glad  my  hus- 
band brought  you  home,"  she  said.  "I  shudder  to 
think  what  would  have  happened,  if  you  had 
not  come  up.  I  shouldn't  have  minded  the  money  ; 
but  he  might  have  been  killed.  I  don't  see 
how  you  could  have  had  the  courage  to  attack 
them." 

"I  had  a  stout  club,"  said  Rufus  ;  "if  it  hadn't 
been  for  that,  I  couldn't  have  done  any  good." 

"  Nor  would  the  club  have  done  any  good,  if  it 
hadn't  been  in  the  hands  of  a  brave  boy,"  said 
Mr.  Turner.  "But  the  breakfast  is  getting  cold. 
Let  us  sit  down." 

Rufus  took  his  seat  in  a  chair  indicated  to  him. 
He  was  glad  to  find  that  he  was  seated  next  to  the 
boy,  who  had  shown  him  the  way  downstairs,  for 
with  a  boy  he  felt  more  at  home  than  with  an  older 
person. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked. 

**  Walter,"  was  the  reply.    "  I'm  named  afte;   xht 


262  ROVGH  AND   READY;    OJt, 

Uncle  Walter.     He's  travelling  in  Europe.    Are  you 
in  a  store?" 

"  No." 

"  Do  you  go  to  school  ?  " 

"  No,  I  sell  papers.     I'm  a  newsboy." 

"Do  you  make  much  money?" 

"  About  eight  dollars  a  week." 

"  That's  a  good  deal.  I  only  get  fifty  cents  a 
week  for  spending  money." 

"  Which  is  twice  as  much  as  you  ought  to  have," 
said  his  father.  "I'm  afraid  you  spend  most  of  it 
for  candy." 

"  I  didn't  know  newsboys  made  so  much  money," 
said  Walter. 

"Rufus  has  a  sister  to  support,'*  said  Mr.  Tur- 
ner. "You  wouldn't  think  eight  dollars  much,  if 
you  had  to  pay  all  your  expenses  out  of  it,  and 
support  a  sister  besides." 

'•What  is  your  sister's  name?"  asked  Mrs.  Tur 
ler- 

"Rose." 

'*  A  very  pretty  name.     How  old  is  she?" 

*  Seven  years  old." 


LIFE   AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       263 

♦'That's  just  as  old  as  my  sister  Carrie,"  said 
Walter ;  *'  here  she  comes.  She's  sg  lazy  she  al- 
ways gets  up  late  in  the  morning." 

"No,  I  don't  either,"  said  the  young  lady  r© 
ferred  to ;  "  I'm  not  so  lazy  as  you  are,  Mastei 
Walter." 

"Well,  then,  why  didn't  you  come  down  ear* 
lier?" 

"Because  I  had  to  have  my  hair  braided,"  said 
Carrie. 

"Didn't  I  have  to  brush  my  hair?"  said  Wal- 
ter. 

"Your  hair  doesn't  look  as  if  you  had  spent 
much  time  on  it,"  said  his  father. 

"  Pa-pa,"  said  Walter,  as  he  helped  himself  to  a 
second  piece  of  toast,  "I  wish  you'd  let  me  stop 
going  to  school,  and  sell  papers." 

"Do  you  think  that  would  be  a  good  plan?" 
asked  his  father,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  I  could  earn  money,  you  know." 

"Not  much,  I  think.  I  suppose,  if  I  agree  to 
that  arrangement,  j^ou  will  promise  to  pay  all  yoiii 
expenses  out  of  your  earnings." 


264  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"Yes,  I  guess  I  could,"  said  Wa-lter,  hesitatinii 
"I  can  learn  the  business  of  Rufus." 

"  I  don't  think  you'd  like  it  very  well,"  said  oui 
hero,  amused. 

"Don't  you  like  it?" 

"I  don't  think  I  should  like  to  sell  papers  all 
my  life." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  when  you  are  a 
man?" 

"I  can't  tell  yet." 

"By  the  way,   Rufus,  I  should  be  glad  to  have 

you  call  at  my  counting-room.  No. "Wall  Street, 

this  morning." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Rufus  ;  "  but  I  should  pre- 
fer to  call  to-morrow.  This  morning.  I  am  going 
over  to  Brookl3'n  to  see  if  I  can  recover  m}'"  sis- 
ter." 

"  To-morrow  will  answer  just  as  well.  Don't  fail 
to  come,  however;.!  wish  to  have  a  talk  with  3''ou 
about  3'our  prospects." 

"  I  will  not  fail  to  come,"  answered  the  newsboy. 

Rufus  did  not  Qnd  it  so  embarrassing  as  he  an^^ici- 
pated  at  the  breakfast  table.     His  young  neighbor. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       265 

Walter,  plied  him  with  questions,  many  of  which 
amused  him,  and  occasionally  his  sister  Carrie,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  joined  in.  Mrs.  Tur 
ner  asked  him  questions  about  his  little  sister,  and 
sympathized  with  him  when  he  described  the  plot  by 
which  she  had  been  taken  from  him. 

"  Do  you  know  Latin  ?  "  inquired  Walter. 

"  No,"  said  Rufus. 

"  I  don*t  see  what's  the  use  of  studying  it,  for  my 
part.     I  never  expect  to  talk  Latin." 

"  I  don't  think  yow  ever  will,"  said  his  father ; 
"  judging  from  your  school  report,  your  success  has 
not  been  very  brilliant  in  that  study,  so  far." 

"  I  know  one  Latin  sentence,  anyway,"  said  Wal- 
ler, complacently. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Sum  stultus." 

"  I  regret  to  hear  it,"  said  his  father,  m  a  tone  of 
amusement. 

"Why?"  asked  Walter,  surprised. 

"  Do  you  understand  the  meaning  of  the  words  yon 
have  just  used  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 


•266  ROVGR   AND   READY;    OH^ 

**  Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  They  mean,  '  I  am  good.* " 

*'  Indeed,  —  I  had  an  idea  that  their  meaning  was 
quite  different.  Suppose  you  look  out  stiiUus  ii 
your  dictionary." 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  right,"  said  Walter,  confidently. 
"  I  will  prove  it  to  you." 

He  got  his  dictionarj',  and  looked  for  the  word 
lie  looked  a  little  abashed  when  he  found  it. 

"  Well,"  said  his  father,  "  what  does  it  mean?  " 

"  I  am  a  fool,"  returned  Walter. 

At  this  there  was  a  laugh  at  Walter's  expense. 
Breakfast  was  now  over,  and  they  rose  from  the 
table. 

"  I  hope  you  will  come  and  see  us  again,"  said 
Mrs.  Turner. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  our  hero. 

*'  Come  again,  Rufus,"  said  Walter ;  "  I'm  making 
a  boat,  and  perhaps  you  can  help  me.  I'd  show  it  to 
you,  onlj^  I've  got  to  get  ready  to  go  to  school.  I'm 
going  to  sail  it  in  the  bath-tub." 

"  I  shall  expect  to  see  you  at  my  oflPcp,  tc-raor- 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK   NEWSBOYS,       267 

row,"  said  Mr.  Turner,    as   Rufua   took   his   leave. 
"  Don't  forget  the  number,  —  Wall  Street." 

The  door  closed  behind  him,  and  Rufus  descended 
\he  steps.  On  the  whole,  he  was  glad  now  that 
ne  had  remained  to  breakfast.  It  had  not  proved  so 
trying  an  ordeal  as  he  anticipated,  and  he  felt  that 
he  had  acquitted  himself  pretty  well  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. It  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be 
very  pleasant  to  live  in  the  same  wa}^  if  he  could  af- 
ford it ;  not  that  he  cared  so  much  for  himself,  but  he 
would  like  it  if  Rose  could  have  the  same  advantages, 
and  live  in  as  pleasant  a  home  as  Carrie  Turner. 

This  recalled  to  his  mind  that  Rose  was  still  in  the 
power  of  his  stepfather,  and  if  he  wished  to  secure 
her  it  would  be  well  to  lose  no  time.  He  jumped  on 
a  horse-car,  and  rode  down-town.  As  he  got  out, 
Ben  Gibson,  who  had  just  finished  a  job,  caught  sight 
of  him. 

"  Why  wasn*t  you  at  the  Lodge  last  night?"  he 
asked. 

"  A  gentleman  invited  me  to  stop  at  his  house  wf 
town." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  said  Ben,  incredulously 


268  ROUGH  AND  ready;  or, 

"  It's  true.  But  I  want  you  to  go  over  to  Brook- 
lyn "with  me,  and  show  me  just  where  Mr.  Martin 
lives.  You  shan't  lose  anything  by  it.  I'll  tell  you 
about  my  adventure  last  night,  as  we  are  walking 
along." 

"  All  right,"  said  Ben  ;  "  my  health's  getting  deli- 
cate,  and   a   trip  to  Brooklyn  will  be  good  for  it." 

Ben  shouldered  his  box,  and  the  two  boys  bent 
Ikeir  steps  towards  Fulton  Ferry. 


LIFE  AMONG   THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOJS,       269 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


MR.    MARTIN    HAS    AN    IDEA. 


"We  must  now  return  to  Rose,  whom  we  left  con 
^j^ed  in  the  cellar.  Now,  a  cellar  is  not  a  very  pleas 
au^  place,  and  Rose  had  a  dismal  time  of  it.  She 
was  considerably  frightened  also,  when,  as  she  sat 
on  the  lower  step  of  the  cellar  stairs  she  saw  a  large 
rat  running  rapidly  past.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  Rose  was  alarmed.  I  know  many  persons  much 
older  who  would  have  done  precisely  what  she  did 
under  the  circumstances,  namely,  scream  with  all 
their  might. 

The  little  girl's  scream  brought  Mrs.  Waters  to  the 
door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  What  are  you  howling  at? "  she  demanded, 
roughly. 

"  I  just  saw  a  big  rat,"  said  Rose.  "  Do  let  me 
come  up ;  I'm  afraid  he'll  bite  me." 

*'  Most  likely  he  will,"  said  Mrs.  Waters.     "  But  J 


270  ROUGH   AND   READY;    OR^ 

can't  let  yoM  corae  up.     You've  acted  too  bad.     Next 
time  3'ou'll  fiud  it  best  to  behave.     And,  mind  you 
don't  yell  again !     If  you  do,  I'll  come  down  and  givs 
vou  something  to  yell  for." 

Saying  this,  she  slammed  the  door,  and  returned 
to  her  work,  leaving  Rose  in  a  very  unhappy  state  of 
mind.  She  sat  in  momentary  expectation  of  the  re- 
appearance of  the  rat,  thinking  it  very-likely  it  would 
bite  her,  as  Mrs  Waters  had  told  her.  She  began  to 
cry  quietly,  not  daring  to  scream,  lest  Mrs.  Waters 
should  carry  out  her  threat  and  give  her  a  whipping. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  —  it  seemed  more  like  a  day 
to  Rose  —  Mrs.  Waters  came  to  the  door,  and  said, 
"You  can  come  up  now,  if  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  to  behave  yourself." 

Rose  needed  no  second  invitation.  She  ran  up- 
stairs hastily,  under  the  impression  that  the  rat  might 
pursue  her,  and  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  she 
was  fairly  out  of  danger. 

Fanny  was  sitting  at  the  table,  eating  a  piece  of 
apple-pic. 

*'Did  the  rats  bite  you?"  she  asked,  laughing  ma 
liciously. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       271 

"  No,"  answered  Rose. 

"  1  wish  tlic}^  had.  It  would  have  been  such  fun  to 
hear  you  holler.'*  ' 

"  You're  a  mean  girl,"  said  Rose,  indignantly. 

"Hoity-toity!  What's  all  this?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Waters.  "  Have  j^ou  begun  to  call  Fanny  names  al 
ready  ?  " 

"  She  said  she  wished  the  rats  had  bitten  me,"  said 
Rose. 

"  Well,  so  do  I.  It  would  have  been  a  good  lesson 
to  you.  Now,  miss,  I've  got  one  word  to  sa3^  If 
you  abuse  and  quarrel  with  Fanny,  I'll  just  put  you 
down  cellar  again,  and  this  time  I'll  keep  you  there 
all  night.     Do  3'ou  hear  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose,  shuddering.  She  privately  made 
up  her  mind  that  she  should  die  if  this  threat  were 
carried  out,  and  the  very  thought  of  it  made  her  turn 
pale. 

'* Don't  3'ou  want  some  pie,  Rose?"  asked  Fanny, 
with  her  mouth  full. 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose,  *'  I  should  like  some." 

"  Well,  you  can't  have  any,"  said  Fanny,  mali- 
ciously.    ' '  Can  she,  ma  ?  " 


272  ROVGH  AKD  ready;  or, 

"  Of  course  not.  She  don't  deserve  anj^,"  said  the 
mother.  "  Pie  is  too  good  for  wicked  girls.  Here, 
you  Rose,  here's  something  for  j'ou  to  do,  to  keef 
you  out  of  mischief.  Sit  down  to  the  table  here,  and 
shell  these  beans.     Don't  yo\x  want  to  help,  Fanny?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Fann}^,  decidedly.  "  She  can 
do  *em  alone." 

A  tin-pan  half  full  of  bean-pods  was  placed  on  the 
table,  and  Rose  was  ordered  to  be  "  spr}^,"  and  not  to 
waste  her  time.  Fanny,  having  finished  her  pie, 
began  to  tease  the  cat,  which  employment  she  found 
much  more  satisfactory  than  helping  Rose. 

That  night  Mrs.  "Waters  presented  her  bill  to  Mr. 
•Martin  for  a  week's  board  in  advance  for  himself  and 
Eose.  The  fact  that  he  had  apparently  given  up 
working  made  her  a  little  doubtful  whether  he  would 
prove  good  \}^y»  She  determined  to  ask  paj^ment  in 
advance,  and  thus  guard  against  all  risk  of  loss. 

"  Mr.  Martin,"  she  said,  "  here's  my  bill  for  youi 
*K)ard,  and  the  little  girl's.  I'm  rather  short  of 
money,  and  have  got  some  bills  to  pay,  and  I  shoulo 
feel  particularly  obliged  if  3'ou  could  pay  me  now," 

Mr.  Martin  took  the  bill,  and  looked  at  it. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       273 

"It's  seven  dollars,"  said  Mrs.  Waters.  "I  can't 
afford  to  take  an}^  less.  Beef's  two  cents  a  pound 
higher,  and  potatoes  is  rising  every  day.  You  can't 
say  It'i^  unreasonable." 

"IfiJ  all  right,  Mrs.  Waters,"  said  Martin,  slip- 
ping it  5nU>  Ms  vest-pocket.  "  It's  all  right.  I'll  at- 
tend to  it  \M  a  day  or  two.'* 

"Can't  yo>T  pay  me  to-day?"  persisted  the  land- 
lady. "  I'vt'  got  my  rent  to  pay  to-morrow,  and  it'll 
take  ail  I  can  get  to  pay  it." 

"Can  you  change  a  fifty-dollar  bill  ?  "  asked  Mar- 
tin. 

"  I  can  get  it  changed." 

"  I  guess  I'll  get  it  changed  myself,"  said  Martin. 
"  I'm  goin*  out  on  business." 

"  I  don't  believe  he's  got  so  much  money,"  thought 
Mrs.  Waters,  suspiciously,  and  it  is  needless  to  say 
that  she  was  quite  right  in  her  suspicions.  The  exact 
amount  of  Mr.  Martin's  cash  in  hand  was  a  dollar 
and  thirty-seven  cents,  and  his  entire  wardrobe  and 
the  sum  of  his  earthl}^  possessions  would  not  probably 
bdve  brought  over  fifteen  dollars. 

Strong  as  Mrs.  AYaters  suspicions  were,  however, 

18 


274  ROUGH  AND   JiEADT;    OR, 

she  coulcl  not  ver}^  well  press  the  matter  then.  She 
resolved  to  wait  till  Mr.  Martin  returned,  and  then 
renew  the  subject.  She  would  be  guided  in  her 
action  by  what  happened  then. 

Martin,  meanwhile,  began  to  consider  that  possibly 
he  had  made  a  mistake  in  kidnapping  Rose.  The 
necessary  outlay  for  her  board  and  clothes  wouhi  be 
a  serious  drain  upon  him,  especially  as  for  years  he 
had  barely  earned  enough  to  pay  his  own  personal 
expenses.  On  the  whole,  he  thought  he  might  as  well 
restore  her  to  her  brother  ;  but  he  would  take  care  that 
the  newsbo}'  paid  for  the  concession.  He  thought  he 
might  by  good  management  get  twent}'  dollars  out 
of  him,  or,  if  he  had  not  so  much,  part  down,  and  the 
rest  in  a  week  or  fortnight.  He  resolved  to  see  Rough 
and  Ready  about  it  the  very  next  morning. 

There  are  some  who  sa}?"  that  monej'  earned  is  en- 
ioyed  the  most.  James  Martin  did  not  believe  this. 
Earning  mone}^  was  ver}-  disagreeable  to  him,  ami  he 
considered  any  other  mode  of  getting  it  preferable. 

He  was  lounging  along  the  street,  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  mc'ltating  as  above,  when  ii  little  girl 
came  up  to  him,  and,  holding  out  her  hand,  whined 


LIFE  AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       2'.  J 

out,  "  Won't  you  give  me  a  few  pennies  for  mj^  poor 
sick  mother?" 

Suddenly  a  brilliant  idea  came  to  Mr.  Martin.  He 
determined  to  question  the  little  girl. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  out  beggin'?"  he  asked. 

"  Ever  since  morning." 

"  How  much  money  have  you  made?" 

The  little  girl  hesitated. 

"  Come,  little  girl,  if  you'll  tell  me  true.,  Til  give 
you  five  cents." 

"  I'll  show  you,"  she  answered,  regaining  confidence. 

She  drew  from  her  pocket  a  miscellaneous  collection 
of  pennies  and  silver  pieces,  which  Martin  counted, 
and  found  to  amount  to  sixty-eight  cents. 

"Do  you  make  as  much  every  day,  little  gal?"  he 
asked. 

"Sometimes  more,"  she  answered. 

"Pretty  good  business,  isn't  it?  How  long's  yom 
mother  been  sick  ?  " 

"  Most  a  year,"  said  the  little  girl,  hesitating. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  her?" 

"  I  don't  know.  She  can't  set  up,"^said  the  girl, 
again  hesitating,  foi  she  was  a  professional  mendi- 


276  nouGH  AND  ready;  or. 

cant,  aiid  the  sick  motlioi'  was  a  sbam,  being  rep« 
resented  in  reality  b}^  a  lazy,  able-bodied  woman,  who 
spent  most  of  the  charitable  contributions  collected 
by  her  daughter  on  drink. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  understand,"  said  Martin,  with  a  wink 
"  Good-by,  little  gal.  Give  my  love  to  your  poor  sick 
mother,  and  tell  her  I'd  come  round  and  inquire  aftei 
her  health  if  I  had  time.*' 

As  he  said  this  he  turned  to  go  away. 

"  You  promised  me  five  cents,"  said  the  little  girl 
running  after  him. 

"Did  I?  Well,  you'll  have  to  wait  till  next  time 
nnless  you  can  change  a  fiftj^-doUar  bill." 

"  I  aint  got  money  enough." 

"  Then  you  must  wait  till  you  see  me  again." 

Mr.  Martin's  questions  had  not  been  without  ai: 
object.  The  idea  which  had  occurred  to  him  was 
this.  Why  might  he  not  make  Rose,  in  like  manner, 
a  source  of  income?  Perhaps  he  might  in  that  wa} 
more  than  pay  expenses,  and  then  he  would  still  bo 
able  to  keep  her,  and  so  continue  to  spite  Rough  and 
Read}',  which  would  be  ver}"  agreeable  to  his  feelings. 

"  I'll  send  her  out  to-morrow  morning,"  he  said  to 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.        277 

himself.  "  If  she's  smart,  she  can  make  a  dollar  a 
day,  and  that'll  help  along  considerable.  I'll  be  her 
poor  sick  mother.  It'll  save  my  workin'  so  hard,  and 
njurin'  my  health  in  my  old  age." 

The  more  Mr.  Martin  thought  of  this  plan,  the  bet- 
ter ne  liked  it,  and  the  more  he  wondered  that  he  had 
never  before  thought  of  making  Rose  a  source  of  in- 
come. 


278  ROUGH  AND  READY;   OE^ 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ROSE   IS   RESTORED   TO   HER  BROTHER. 

When  Mi*.  Martin  re-entered  his  boarding-house 
late  in  the  afternoon,  Mrs.  Waters  looked  as  if  she 
expected  her  bill  to  be  paid. 

"  I  couldn't  change  my  fifty  dollars,"  said  Martin  ; 
*'  but  it's  all  right,  Mrs.  Waters.  You  shall  have  the 
money  to-morrow." 

Notwithstanding  the  confidence  with  which  he 
spoke,  Mrs.  Waters  felt  rather  troubled  in  mind. 
She  doubted  very  much  whether  it  was  all  right,  and 
would  have  felt  very  much  relieved  if  she  could  have 
seen  the  bank-note  which  Martin  talked  about  chang- 
ing. However,  there  was  no  good  excuse  for  ques- 
tioning his  statement,  and  she  could  only  wait  as  pa- 
tiently as  she  might.  But  she  resolved  that  if  the 
money  were  not  forthcoming  the  next  daj^,  she  would 
advise  Mr.  Martin  to  seek  another  boarding-place, 
and  tliat  without  delay. 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       279 

When  breakfast  was  over  the  next  morning,  Mar- 
tin said  to  Rose,  "  Put  on  your  bonnet.  I  want  you 
to  go  out  with  me." 

"Rose  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  I'm  goiu*  to  get  her  some  new  clothes,  ma'am,'* 
he  said  to  Mrs.  Waters.  "  She  needs  'em,  and  it  will 
give  me  a  good  chance  to  change  m}^  bill," 

This  might  be  so.  Mrs.  Waters  hoped  it  was. 
Rose,  however,  listened  with  amazement.  Her  step- 
father had  not  bought  her  an}^  clothes  for  years,  —  in- 
deed, she  could  not  remember  when,  —  and  it  was  not 
long  since  he  had  taken  away  and  sold  those  which 
her  brother  bought  her.  The  idea  struck  her  with 
alarm  that  perhaps  he  had  the  same  intention  now. 

*'  Come,  don't  be  all  day,"  said  Martin,  roughly. 
*'  Maybe  I'll  change  my  mind,  and  not  bu}^  you  any 
if  you're  so  long  gettin'  read3^" 

It  took  little  time  for  Rose  to  make  necessary  prei> 
arations.  After  leaving  the  house,  Mr.  Martin  led 
the  way  to  Third  Avenue,  where  they  got  on  board 
the  horse-cars.  It  struck  Mr.  Martin  that  a  good 
place  for  Rose  to  commence  her  new  profession  would 


280  ROUGH  AXD  ready;  or^ 

be  in  front  of  Fulton  Feny,  where  crowds  of  people 
were  passing  and  repassing  continually. 

Rose  did  not  venture  to  ask  any  questions  till  they 
reached  their  destination. 

Then  seeing  the  ferry,  which  she  remembered,  she 
asked  hopefull}^,  "  Are  we  going  to  New  York?  '* 

"  No,  we  aint.  Don't  you  think  of  such  a  thing," 
said  Martin,  roughlj^ 

"  Are  3^ou  going  to  buy  me  some  clothes  here?  I 
don't  see  any  stores.'* 

"You've  got  clothes  enough.  You've  got  better 
clothes  than  I  have.'* 

*'I  thought,"  said  Rose,  "you  told  Mrs.  Waters 
you  were  going  to  buy  me  some." 

"  Maybe  I'll  buy  j^ou  some,  if  yovL  do  just  as  I  tell 
you.     I've  got  something  for  you  to  do." 

They  had  now  left  the  cars,  and  were  crossing  the 
street  to  the  ferry. 

"Now,"  said  Martin,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  j'ou  must 
do.  You  must  stand  just  there  where  people  come  out, 
and  hold  out  your  hand,  and  sa}^  'Give  me  a  few 
pennies  for  my  poor  sick  motlier,* " 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       281 

"But,*'  said  Rose,  in  dismay,  "  that  will  be  beg- 
ging." 

"  S'pose  it  is,"  retorted  her  stepfather,  doggedly. 
"  Are3'ou  too  proud  to  beg?  Do  j^ou  expect  me  to 
support  3^ou  without  you  doin'  anything  ?  " 

"  I'm  willing  to  work,"  said  Rose,  "  but  I  don*fe 
want  to  beg." 

"  None  of  your  impudence  !  "  said  Martin,  angrily. 
"You  must  do  just  as  I  told  you.  Say,  *  Give  me  a 
few  pennies  for  my  poor  sick  mother.' " 

These  last  words  he  brought  out  in  a  doleful 
whine,  such  as  he  thought  might  excite  compassion. 

"  There,  see  if  you  can  say  it  as  I  did." 

"  I  haven't  got  any  sick  mother,"  pleaded  Rose. 

"  What's  the  odds  ?  Half  of  them  aint.  Only  you 
must  say  so,  or  they  won't  give  you  anything.  Come, 
are  you  ready  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  beg,"  said  Rose,  desperately. 

"I  tell  3^ou  what,  little  gal,"  said  Martin,  fierce!}^; 
"  if  you  don't  do  as  I  tell  you,  I'll  give  you  the  wu«it 
li6kin'  you  ever  had.     Say  v»'hat  I  told  you.'* 

"  Give  me  a  few  pennies  for  my  poor  sick  mother," 
repeated  Rose,  unwillingly. 


£82  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"  You  don't  say  it  feelin'  enough,"  said  Martin, 
critically.  "Anybody  would  think  you  didn't  care 
nothin'  for  3^our  poor  sick  mother.  Say  it  so  ;  "  anO 
he  repeated  the  whine. 

Rose  said  it  after  him,  and  though  her  performance 
was  not  quite  satisfactory  to  her  stepfather,  he  de- 
cided that  it  would  do. 

"  There,  stand  there,'*  he  said,  "  and  begin.  I'm 
goin'  just  across  the  street,  and  if  you  don't  do  it 
right,  look  out  for  a  lickin'." 

Rose  took  her  position,  feeling  very  much  ashamed, 
and  almost  rekty  to  cr}^  bhe  wished  she  could  es- 
cape the  necessit}^ ;  but  looking  across  the  street  she 
saw  Martin  furtively  shaking  his  fist  at  lier,  and 
turned  desperately  to  follow  his  directions. 

The  boat  was  just  in,  and  a  throng  of  passengers 
was  passing  through  the  gate. 

"  Give  me  a  few  pennies  for  my  poor  sick  moth- 
er," said  Rose,  to  a  good-natured-looking  man  who 
passed  her. 

He  looked  at  her  anxious  face,  and  something  in  it 
excited  his  pity.     He  took  out  ten  cents,  and  gave  it 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK   NEWSBOYS.       2?>3 

to  ber»  Rose  took  it,  feeling  very  much  ashamed, 
and  turned  to  the  next  passer. 

"  Give  me  a  few  pennies  for  my  poor  sick  moth 
er,"  she  said. 

"  Out  of  the  way  there,  3^ou  young  beggar!  "  said 
he,  roughly.  *'  Such  nuisances  as  you  are  ought  to 
be  sent  to  the  Island." 

Rose  drew  back  alarmed  at  this  rough  language, 
and  for  a  moment  kept  silent,  hardly  daring  to  re- 
new her  appeal.  But  a  look  at  James  Martin's 
threatening  face  compelled  her  to  continue,  and 
again  she  made  the  appeal. 

This  time  it  was  a  lady  she  addressed,  —  mild  and 
pleasant,  —  who  paused  a  moment,  and  spoke  gently. 

"  Is  your  mother  quite  sick,  my  dear?  "  she  asked, 
in  a  voice  of  compassion. 

"Yes, ma'am,"  answered  Rose,  faintly,  ashamed  of 
the  falsehood  she  was  uttering. 

"Have  you  anj^  brothers  and  sisters?" 

"  One  brother,"  answered  Rose,  glad  that  here  at 
least  she  could  tell  the  truth. 

"  Here's  something  for  you,*'  said  the  ladj-,  placing 
tvA-enly-five  cents  in  the  child's  outstretched  palm. 


284  ROUGH  AND   READY;    ORy 

All  the  passengers  had  now  passed  through  the 
portal,  and  she  had  some  respite. 

James  Martin  crossed  the  street,  and,  coming  up  to 
her,  asked,  "  How  much  did  you  get?" 

Rose  opened  her  hand. 

"  Thirty-five  cents  in  five  minutes,"  he  said,  elated 
"  Come,    little     gal,    you're     gettin'    on    finely.     1 
snouldn't  wonder  if  you'd  take  three  or  four  dollars 
by  two  o'clock.     "We'll  go  home  then." 

"  But  1  don't  like  to  beg,"  said  Rose. 

"  Don't  let  me  hear  none  of  that,"  said  Martin, 
angrily.  "  You're  laz}^,  that's  what's  the  matter. 
You've  got  to  earn  your  livin',  there's  no  two  ways 
about  that,  and  this  is  the  easiest  way  to  do  it. 
There  aint  no  work  about  beggin*." 

Since  Martin  was  mean  enough  to  live  on  the 
money  begged  by  a  little  girl,  it  isn't  likely  that  he 
would  understand  the  delicate  scrupulousness  which 
made  Rose  ashamed  of  soliciting  charit}^ 

"  I'll  take  the  monc}-,"  said  her  stepfather,  *'  and 
you  can  get  some  more  when  the  next  boat  comes  in. 
Fm  goin'  away  a  few  minutes,"  he  proceeded;  "but 
you  must  stay  here  just  where  you  are,  and  keep  on 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS.       285 

just  as  if  I  was  here.  I  won't  be  gone  long.  If  I 
find  you  haven't  done  nothing  when  I  come  back, 
look  out  for  3'ourself." 

James  Martin  had  reflected  that  the  thirt3'-five 
cents  would  be  sufficient  to  get  him  a  drink  and  a 
couple  of  cigars,  and  it  was  to  obtain  these  that  he 
went  away.  He  found  it  rather  dull  work,  standing 
on  the  sidewalk  and  watching  Rose,  and  he  thought 
that  by  inspiring  her  with  a  little  wholesome  fear, 
she  would  go  on  just  as  well  in  his  absence.  Still  it 
might  be  as  well  to  encourage  her  a  little. 

"  If  you're  a  good  gal,"  he  proceeded,  in  a  changed 
tone,  "  and  get  a  lot  of  money,  I'll  buy  you  some 
candy  when  we  go  home." 

This,  however,  did  not  cheer  Rose  much.  She 
would  much  prefer  to  go  without  the  candy,  if  she 
might  be  relieved  from  her  present  disagreeable  em- 
ployment. 

If  Mr.  Martin  had  been  aware  that  among  the  pas- 
sengers on  the  next  boat  were  Rough  and  Ready 
and  Ben  Gibson,  he  would  scarcel}^  have  felt  so  safe 
in  leaving  Rose  behind.  Such,  however,  was  the 
case.    While  Rose  was  plunged  in  sorrowful  thought, 


28G  ROUGH  AND    READY;    OR, 

filled  with  shame  at  the  thought  of  her  employment, 
deliverance  was  near  at  hand. 

The  boat  came  in,  and  she  felt  compelled  to  re- 
sume her  appeal. 

"  Give  me  a  few  pennies  for  my  poor  sick  mother," 
she  said,  holding  out  her  hand. 

"Where  is  your  poor  sick  mother?"  asked  the 
person  addressed. 

"  She's  dead,"  said  Rose,  forgetting  herself. 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  he  answered,  laughing, 
and  passed  on,  of  course  without  giving  anything. 

Rather  mortified  at  the  mistake  she  had  made, 
Rose  turned  to  address  the  next  passenger,  when  she 
uttered  a  joyful  cry. 

"  O  Rufie ! "  she  exclaimed,  throwing  her  arms 
around  him. 

"Rose,  is  it  3'ou?"  he  exclaimed,  surprised  and 
delighted.  "How  came  3'ou  here?  I  came  over  to 
Brooklyn  on  purpose  to  find  you ;  but  I  had  no  idea 
you  were  so  near." 

"  Mr.  Martin  sent  me  here  to  beg." 
'  To  beg  !  "  repeated  Rufus,  indignantly.     "  And 
where  is  he  now?  " 


LITE  AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       287 

"  He's  gone  awa}^,"  said  Eose,  "  but  he's  coming 
right  back." 

'*Then  he  won't  find  3'ou,  that's  all.  Come,  Ben 
we'll  go  right  back  by  the  next  boat,  and  carr}^  Rose 
with  us.     I  didn't  expect  to  be  so  luck3\" 

"Won't  Martin  be  mad?"  said  Ben.  "I'd  like 
to  see  him  when  he  finds  your  sister  gone." 

"He  shan't  see  her  again  very  soon,"  said  Rufiis, 
"  not  if  I  can  help  it.     Come  along.  Rose." 

He  paid  their  fare  by  the  boat,  and  hurried  Rose 
on  board.  It  started  in  the  course  of  two  or  three 
minutes  on  its ,  return  trip.  On  the  way  he  made 
Rose  tell  him  how  she  had  been  treated,  and  was 
very  angry  when  told  of  the  persecutions  to  which 
she  had  been  subjected. 

"  But  it's  all  over  now,  Rosy,"  he  said,  putting  his 
arm  caressingly  round  his  little  sister's  neck,  "you'ro 
safe  now,  and  nobody  shall  trouble  you.  Miss  Man- 
ning will  be  rejoiced  to  see  you  again." 

"  I  shall  be  so  glad  to*get  home  again,  Rufie,"  said 
Rose,  earnest!}  ;  "  Miss  Manning's  so  much  nicer  thao 
Mrs.  Waters." 


288  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

"And  am  I  as  nice  as  Mr.  Martin?"  asked  Rufus^ 
laughing. 

"  Ten  thousand  million  times,"  said  Rose,  emphat - 
cally.     "  He  isn't  nice  at  all." 

Meanwhile  we  return  to  Mr.  Martin. 

When  he  got  back,  he  looked  in  vain  for  Rose. 

"  Where's  she  gone?"  he  asked  himself,  angrily. 

He  looked  about  him  on  all  sides,  but  no  Rose  was 
to  be  seen.  It  occurred  to  him  that  perhaps  she 
might  have  taken  some  of  the  money  obtained  b}^ 
begging,  and  gone  over  to  New  York  in  the  boat,  in 
the  hope  of  finding  her  brother.  If  so,  he  would  fol- 
low her. 

To  make  sure,  he  asked  the  fare-taker. 

"  Did  3^ou  see  a  little  girl  begging  just  outside  the 
gate  a  few  minutes  ago?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  She's  gone  awa3\  Did  you  see  where  she 
went?" 

"  She  went  over  to  New  York  in  the  boat,  abor.t 
twenty  minutes  ago." 

"  Did  she  go  alone.?  " 

"  No ;  there  were  two  boj's  went  with  her.** 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS,       28^ 

Martin  asked  for  a  description  of  the  boys,  and  re 
alized  to  his  intense  disappointment  that  his  plans 
were  foiled,  and  that  Rough  and  Ready  had  recovered 
his  sister.  He  was  provoked  with  himself  for  leaving 
her,  and  his  vexation  was  the  greater  that  he  had  not 
only  lost  Rose  and  the  money  she  might  have  made 
for  bim,  but  also  tho  sum  which  the  newsboy  stood 
ready  to  pay  for  the  return  of  his  sister. 

"  Confounc'  i\ip  luck  I "  he  muttered.     "  It's  always 
agai'po*  -re'* 

19 


290  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR* 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

"  Now,"  said  Rufus,  "  we'll  surprise  Miss  Man> 
ning.     She  won't  be  expecting  you." 

"Do  3'ou  think  Mr.  Martin  will  come  after  mei 
Rufie?"  asked  Rose,  anxiously. 

"  If  he  does  he  won't  get  you." 

"  I  shan't  dare  to  go  out  in  the  street." 

"  You  had  better  not  go  out  alone.  I'll  tell  Miss 
Manning  about  it.  I  think  it  will  be  best  to  move  to 
some  other  street,  as  long  as  Mr.  Martin  knows  the 
old  place." 

*' Maybe  he'd  like  to  adopt  me  instead  of  Rose," 
suggested  Ben,  humorousl3\  "  I'd  make  an  inter- 
estin'.-lookin'  girl  if  I  could  only  borrer  a  dress  that 
would  fit  me." 

"  You'd  have  to  give  up  smoking,  Ben.  Girls  don't 
smoke." 

''  I'm  afraid  that  woukln't  ajrree  with  me."  said  Ben. 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       291 

"  I  guess  Mrs.  Waters  would  find  you  a  tough  cus«^ 
tomer,  if  she  undertook  to  shut  you  up  in  the  eel 
iar." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ben,  "  she'd  find  me  as  tough  as  a 
ten-year-old  turkey." 

At  Printing  House  Square,  Ben  left  the  party,  and 
resumed  his  professional  occupation.  As  he  will 
not  again  be  mentioned  in  this  stor}^,  I  will  mention 
that  an  account  of  his  subsequent  career  may  be  found 
in  "  Mark,  the  Match  Boy,"  the  third  volume  of  this 
series. 

Miss  Manning  was  sitting  in  her  humble  room 
sewing  diligentl3\  She  was  thinking  sadly  how 
cheerless  and  lonely  it  was  since  Rose  had  disap- 
peared. -She  was  not  very  sanguine  about  recovering 
her,  since  it  was  much  easier  to  hide  a  little  girl  than 
to  find  her  among  such  a  wilderness  of  houses  as  the 
great  city  contains.  But,  as  she  sat  at  her  work,  a 
sound  of  footsteps  was  heard  upon  the  stairs,  and  di- 
rectly afterwards  the  door  flew  open,  and  little  Rose, 
rushing  forward,  threw  her  arms  around  her  neck. 

"Have  you  come  back  again,  Rose?"  exclaimea 
the  seamstress,  joyfully. 


!^2  HOUGH  AXD  ji^ady;  ob, 

"  Yes,  Miss  Manning,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  3'ou 
again ;  "  and  Rose  kissed  her  again  and  again. 

"  How  did  you  find  her,  Rufus?"  asked  Miss  Man- 
ning, returning  the  embrace. 

The  newsboy  related  the  story  briefly. 

Then  Rose  was  called  upon  to  give  an  account;  of 
all  that  had  happened  to  her. 

"  What  a  wicked  woman  Mrs.  Waters  must  be  !  " 
said  the  mild  seamstress,  with  a  display  of  indigna- 
tion unusual  for  her.  "  She  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
herself  to  shut  3'ou  up  in  a  dark  cellar." 

"  I  was  so  afraid  of  the  rats,"  said  Rose,  shudder- 
ing.    "  I  was  afraid  they  would  eat  me  up." 

"  You'd  make  a  pretty  large  mouthful  for  a  com- 
mon-sized rat,"  said  Rufus,  smiling. 

"  They  might  have  bitten  me,  though,"  said  Rose. 

"  Well,  the}^  slian't  trouble  j^ou  an3^  more,  little  sis- 
ter," said  Rufus.  "  Mr.  Martin  will  be  a  smart  man 
(f  he  gets  hold  of  you  again." 

*'  He  might  carry  you  off,  Rufie,"  said  Rose,  in  mo- 
mentar}'  alarm. 

*'rd  like  to  see  him  do  it,"  said  Rough  and  Ready. 


LIFE   AMONG    THE   NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       293 

drawing  up  his  youthful  form.  "  He'd  wish  he 
hadn't,  that's  all,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 

*'  I  think,  Miss  Manning,"  he  proceeded,  "  we'd 
better  move,  so  as  to  put  Martin  off  the  track.  As 
long  as  Rose  lives  here,  he'll  be  prowling  round,  and 
some  time  he  might  get  hold  of  her  again." 

"  I  am  perfectly  willing,"  said  the  seamstress. 
*^  My  week's  up  to-morrow,  and  I  can  move  at  once. 
Suppose  we  go  out  and  find  a  place  this  afternoon." 

"  All  right,'*  said  Rufus.  "  But  I've  got  to  leave 
you  now.  I've  a  business  engagement  down  in  Wall 
Street." 

"  Among  the  bulls  and  bears,"  said  Miss  Manning, 
smiling. 

"  Are  there  bulls  and  bears  in  Wall  Street?"  said 
Rose,  alarmed.  "Oh,  don't  go  down  there,  Rufie. 
You'll  get  killed." 

"  They  won't  hurt  me.  Rose.  I  haven't  got  money 
enough,"  said  the  newsboy,  smiling.  "  Don't  be 
afraid.     I'll  come  back  early  in  the  afternoon." 

The  newsboy  took  the  nearest  route  to  Wall  Street. 
It  is  a  short  street ;  but  an  immense  volume  of  busi« 
tiess  is  transacted  there  every  day      It  is  lined  with 


234  ROVGH  AXD  ready;  or, 

banks  and  business  ofBces,  especially  those  of 
brokers,  Iaw3^ers,  insurance  companies,  and  moneyed 
institutions.  There  were  plenty  of  bulls  and  bears 
upon  the  street ;  but  they  looked  very  much  alike, 
and  Rufus  could  not  tell  them  apart. 

As  these  terms  may  seem  mj-sterious  to  some  of 
my  young  readers,  it  may  be  as  well  to  say  that 
"  bulls  "  are  those  who  are  striving  to  carry  up  the 
price  of  stocks,  and  "  bears  "  are  those  who  are  mak- 
ing an  effort  to  depress  them. 

Our  hero  was  not  long  in  finding  the  office  of  Mr. 
Turner. 

He  had  to  go  up  a  short  flight  of  steps,  at  the  head 
of  which  a  door  opened  into  a  hall  or  entr^'-way.  On 
one  side  of  this  was  the  office  of  Mr.  Turner.  Open- 
ing the  office-door,  he  found  himself  in  a  large  room 
fitted  up  with  a  counter,  behind  which  were  two  or 
three  young  men,  who  were,  no  doubt,  clerks. 

"  Is  Mr.  Turner  in?  "  asked  the  newsboy,  going  up 
to  the  counter. 

"  Not  just  now  ;  he's  at  the  Board,"  —  meaning  the 
Stock  Board,  where  stocks  are  bought  and  sold- 
"  Can  I  do  your  business?  " 


LIFS   AMONO    THE   NEW    YORK  AE1VSB0TS.       295 

"  No  ;  Mr.  Turner  asked  me  to  call/' 
*'  You  can  wait  for  him,  if  you  like." 
Rough  and  Ready  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair,  and 
took  up  the  morning  paper.'   He  had  been  thus  en- 
gaged about  tAventy  minutes,  when  he  heard  the  door 
open,  and,  looking  up,  saw  Mr.  Turner. 

**  Good-morning,  Mi.  Turner,"  said  our  hero,  lay- 
ing aside  the  paper,  and  rising. 

"  Oh,  good-morning,  Rufus.  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
Wait  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  be  at  leisure." 

He  went  behind  the  counter,  and  gave  a  few  quick 
business  directions  to  his  clerks. 

"  James,  go  to  the  Park  Bank,  and  get  these  shares 
transferred  to  John  Wade,"  he  said  to  the  3'oungest 
clerk,  who  thereupon  seized  his  hat  and  left  the 
office. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Turner  was  disengaged 
Coming  out  from  behind  the  counter,  he  drew  up  an 
arm-chair,  and  sat  down  opposite  Rufus. 

"  So  you  are  a  newsbo}^?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  But  you  don't  want  to  be  a  newsboy  always?" 

"  No,    sir,"   said   Rufus,  pi'omptly.     "  Only   there 


2^6  ROUGH  AND   READY;    OR, 

isn't  much  chance  for  me  to  get  anything  better  to 
do." 

"How  much  do  you  earn  by  selling  papers?" 

'*  About  eight  dollars  a  week." 

"  And  out  of  that  you  support  3' our  sister  and 
yourself?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  not  been  able  to  lay  up  any 
mone3^" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"How  much?" 

"  Three  hundred  dollars." 

"  Three  hundred  dollars  !  "  repeated  Mr.  Turner, 
in  surprise.  "  Surely  you  could  not  save  up  so  much 
as  that?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  found  it." 

"  Tell  me  about  it." 

Our  hero  told  of  his  adventure  in  the  bar-room. 

"  So  you  have  not  spout  any  of  this  money  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  put  it  in  the  savings-bank." 

"  That  is  well,"  said  the  broker,  approvingly.  *'  It 
shows  that  you  have  more  good  sense  than  most 
boys  of  your  class.     Now   I  have  a    proposition  to 


LIFE   AMONG    THE  NEW   YORK  NEWSBOYS.       291 

make  to  you.  How  should  you  like  to  enter  tbii 
office?" 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,  sir." 

*' Better  than  being  a  newsboy?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  there  aint  any  chance  to  rise  in  th< 
paper  business." 

"  And  here,  if  you  do  your  duty,  there  will  be  s 
chance  to  rise." 

"  Yes  J  sir,  that*s  what  T  mean." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do.  Yoi 
did  me  a  signal  service  last  night.  You  saved  me 
fiom  losing  a  large  sum  of  mone}'',  and,  what  is  worse 
from  serious  personal  injury.  I  want  to  do  some 
thing  for  you  in  return.  I  think  3^ou  are  a  smar' 
boy,  and,  what  is  better,  an  honest  and  trustworth} 
boy.  It  so  happens  that  my  youngest  clerk  is  ii 
poor  health,  and  is  "about  to  leave  my  employment 
I  will  give  you  his  place." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Rufus. 

"  As  to  salary  I  shall  for  the  present  give  3^ou  the 
same  you  have  been  earning  by  selling  papers,  — that 
is,  dght  dollars  a  week.  It  is  nearly  double  what  J 
havt  been  accustomed  to  pa}^,  but  that  is  of  no  con 


298  HOUGH  AND  ready;  Oi?, 

sequence.  Besides  this,  I  will  give  3'ou  two  hunclrcnl 
dollars  to  add  to  your  fund  in  the  savings-bank,  in- 
creasing it  to  five  liundred." 

•'  You  are  verj',  ver}^  kind,"  said  Rufus. 

''  I  owe  you  some  kindness,"  said  Mr.  Turner. 
"  There  are  other  waj^s  in  which  I  shall  find  an  oppor- 
tunity to  serve  you.  But  of  that  we  will  speak  here- 
after.    When  do  j^ou  want  to  come  ?  " 

"  "Whenever  you  think  best,  sir." 

•'  Then  let  it  be  next  Monday  morning,  at  nine 
o'clock.  James  will  remain  a  week  or  two,  till  you 
get  a  little  familiar  w^ith  your  duties.  And  now,  my 
young  friend,  this  is  all  the  time  I  can  spare  you  this 
morning.     Good-by  till  Monday." 

Mr.  Turner  shook  hands  with  Rufus,  and  the  latter 
left  thr  office  with  the  stra.nge  feeling  which  we  alwa3's 
have  when  a  great  change  is  going  to  take  place  in 
our  course  of  life.  He  was  about  to  bid  farewell  to 
the  life  of  a  newsbo}',  and  enter  iipon  a  business 
career  in  Wall  Street.  He  could  not  help  feeling  a 
thrill  of  new  importance  as  he  thought  of  this,  and 
his  ambition  was  roused.  Wliy  should  he  not  rise 
to  a  position  of  importance  like  the  men  whom  he  had 


LIFE  AMONG    THE  NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS,       299 

heard  of  and  seen,  whose  beginnings  bad  been  as  bum- 
ble as  his  own?    He  determined  to  tr}-,  at  all  events. 

He  returned  to  Miss  Manning  to  acquaint  her  and 
Rose  with  bis  good  fortune.  The  seamstress  seemed 
quite  impressed  with  the  news. 

"  Who  knows  what  ma}^  come  of  it,  Rufus  ? "  she 
said.  "  Some  da^^  yo\i  may  be  a  rich  man,  —  perhaps 
president  of  a  bank." 

"Which  shall  1  be,  Rose,  a  bull  or  a  bear?"  in- 
quired Rufus,  playfully. 

*'  You  can't  be  a  bull,"  said  Rose,  positively,  '*  foi 
you  haven't  got  any  horns.'* 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  must  be  a  bear,"  said  the  news- 
boy, laughing. 

So  Rufus  ceased  to  be  a  newsboy,  and  here  appro- 
priately closes  the  story  of  "  Rough  and  Ready  ;  or. 
Life  among  the  New  York  Newsboys."  But  a  new 
career  dawns  upon  our  hero,  brighter  than  the  past, 
but  not  without  its  trials  and  difficulties.  Those  who 
are  interested  to  hear  of  his  new  life,  and  are  curious 
to  learn  what  became  of  Mr.  Martin,  will  find  the  ac- 
count  given  in  a  subsequent  volume,  for  next  Christ 


500  JtOUGn  AND   JiEADT. 

mas,  to  be  called  *'  Rcfus  and  Rose  ;  or,  The  Ad- 
ventures of  Rough  and  Ready."  Before  writing  this, 
however,  I  propose  to  publish,  as  the  next  volume  of 
this  series,  the  experiences  of  one  of  the  newsboy's 
friends,  under  the  title  of 

Ben,  the  Luggage  Boy; 

or, 

Among  the  "WnAHVEa, 


Famous  itastlemon  Boohs. 


No  author  of  the  present  day  has  become  a  greater  favorite 
with  boys  than  "Harry  Castlemon,"  every  book  by  him  is  sure 
to  meet  Vith-hearty  reception  by  young  readers  generally.  His 
naturalness  and  vivacity  leads  his  readers  from  page  to  page 
with  breathless  interest,  and  when  one  volume  is  finished  the 
fascinated  reader,  like  Oliver  Twist,  asks  "for  more." 


By  Harry  ita$tlemon» 


GUNBOAT  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon.  In 
box  containing  the  following.  6  vols.  i6mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold ^7  5^ 

(Sold  separately.) 

Frank  the  Young  Naturalist.    Illustrated.    i6mo.  i  25 

Frank  in  the  Woods.     Illustrated,     i6mo i  25 

Frank  on  the  Prairie.     Illustrated.     i6mo i  25 

Frank  on  a  Gunboat.     Illustrated.     i6mo l  25 

Frank  before  Vicksburg.     Illustrated.     i6mo.  .    .  i  25 

Frank  on  the  Lower  Mississippi.      Illustrated, 

i6mo I   25 

GO  AHEAD  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon.  In 
box  containing  the  following.     3  vols.     i6mo.    Cloth, 

extra,  black  and  gold 3  75 

(Sold  separately,)  i 


12  PORTIiR    4    COATES  S    POPULAR   JUVENILES. 

Go  Ahead  ;  or,  The  Fisher  Boy's  Motto.     Ilhistrated. 

i6mo $1   25 

No  Moss  ;  or,  The  Career  of  a  Rolling  Stone.  Illus- 
trated.    i6mo .       I   25 

Tom  Newcombe ;    or,   The   Boy  of    Bad   Habits. 

Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SERIES.  By  Harry 
Castlemon.    In  box  containing  the  following.    3  vols. 

l6mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold 3  75 

(Sold  separately.) 

Frank  at  Don  Carlos' Rancho.    Illnstrated.    i6mo.      i  25 

Frank  among  the  Rancheros.    Illustrated,    i6mo.      i  25 

Frank  in  the  Mountains.     Illustrated.      i6mo  .    .       i  25 

SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  SERIES.      By  Harry 

Castlemon.     In  box  containing  the  following.     3  vols. 

i6mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold 3  75 

(Sold  separately.) 

The  Sportsman's  Club  in  the  Saddle.  Illus- 
trated.     i6mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold  .    ...       I   25 

The  Sportsman's  Club  Afloat.  Being  the  2d  vol- 
ume of  the  "  Sportsman's  Club  Series."  Illustrated. 
l6mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold I   25 

The  Sportsman's  Club  among  the   Trappers. 

Being  the  3d  volume  of  the  "Sportsman's  Club 
Series."  Illustrated.  l6mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold I   25 

PRANK  NELSON  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castle- 
mon.   In  box  containing  the  following.    3  vols.    l6mo. 

Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold 375 

(Sold  separately.) 

Snowed    up ;    or.   The     Sportsman's    Club   in    the 

Mountains.     Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

Frank  Nelson  in  the  Forecastle  ;  or,  the  Sports- 
man's Club  among  the  Whalers.     Illustrated.     l6mo.       I   25 

The  Boy  Traders ;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Club  among 

the  Boers.     Illustrated.     l6mo I   25 


PORTER  &  COAXES  S  POPULAR  JUVENILES.         J 

BOY  TRAPPER  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castle- 
mon.  In  box  containing  the  following.  3  vols.  l6mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold $3  75 

(Sold  separately.) 

The  Buried  Treasure  ;  or,  Old  Jordan's  "  Haunt." 
Being  the  1st  volume  of  the  "  Boy  Trapper  Series." 
Illustrated.     l6mo I   25 

The  Boy  Trapper ;  or,  How  Dave  filled  the  Order. 
Being  the  2d  volume  of  the  "Boy  Trapper  Series." 
Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

The  Mail  Carrier.  Being  the  3d  and  concluding  vol- 
ume of  the  "  Boy  Trapper  Series."    Illustrated.    i6mo.       i  25 

ROUGHING  IT  SERIES.  By  Harr>'  Castlemon. 
In  box  containing  the  following.  3  vols.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold 3  75 

(Sold  separately.) 

George  in  Camp  ;  or,  Life  on  the  Plains.  Being  the 
ist  volume  of  the  "  Roughing  It  Series."  Illustrated. 
i6mo Z  25 

George  at  the  "Wheel ;  or.  Life  in  a  Pilot  House. 
Being  the  2d  volume  of  the  '-Roughing  It  Series." 
Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

George  at  the  Fort ;  or,  Life  Among  the  Soldiers. 
Being  the  3d  and  concluding  volume  of  the  "  Rough- 
ing It  Series."     Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

ROD  AND  GUN  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon. 
In  box   containing  the   following.       3  vols.       Cloth, 

extra,  black  and  gold 3  75 

(Sold  separately). 

Don  Gordon's  Shooting  Box.  Being  the  ist  vol- 
ume of  the  "  Rod  and  Gun  Series."  Illustrated. 
i6mo I  25 

Rod  and  Gun.      Being   the  second   volume  of  the 

"  Rod  axid  Gun  Series."     Illustrated.     i6mo.      ...       I   25 

The  Young  "Wild  Fowlers.  Being  the  third  vol- 
ume of  the  "Rod  and  Gun  Series."   Illustrated.    i6mo.      i  25 


Alger's  Benooineb  Boohs. 


Horatio  Alger,  Jr.,  has  attained  distinction  as  one  of  the  most 
popular  writers  of  books  for  boys,  and  the  following  list  com- 
prises all  of  his  best  books. 


By  Horatio  Alger,  3r, 


RAGGED  DICK   SERIES.     By  Horatio  Alger, 
Jr.,  in  box  containing  the  following.      6  vols,      i6mo. 

Cloth,  e.\tra,  black  and  gold $7  S^ 

(Sold  separately.) 

Ragged  Dick;  or,  Street  Life  in  New  York.     Illus- 
trated.    i6mo I   25 

^ame  and  Fortune;  or.  The  Progress  of  Richard 

Hunter,     Illustrated.     i6mo i   25 

Mark  the  Match  Boy;  or,  Richard  Hunter's  Ward, 

Illustrated.      i6mo I   25 

Rough  and  Ready;  or,  Life  among  the  New  York 

Newsboys.     Illustrated.      i6mo I   25 

Ben  the  Luggage  Boy;  or.  Among  the  \\liarves. 

Illustrated.       i6mo I   25 

Rufus  and  Rose ;  or.  The  Fortunes  of  Rough  and 

Ready.     Illustrated.     i6mo I   25 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES.     (First  Series.) 
By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.,  in  box  containing  the  following. 
4  vols.     i6mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold      ...       5  00 
(Sold  separately.) 

Tattered  Tom;  or,  The  Story  of  a  Street  Arab,     Il- 
lustrated.      i6mo I   25 

Paul  the  Peddler;  or.  The  Adventures  of  a  Young 

Street  Merchant.      Illustrated.       i6mo i   25 

Phil  the  Fiddler;  or,  The  Young  Street  Musician. 

Illustrated.       i6mo 12$ 

4 


